Trapped Within Foreign Skin
by DustyRabbit
Summary: She was not supposed to wake up. She had made sure of it. But when she did, it was to a living skin she never imagined herself wearing. Death never scared her, but facing that which she once lost might just be even more frightening. Could she stop history from repeating itself? She already lost one, she didn't think she could lose another. OC/SI. NonCanon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto. Or any associated characters, places or plotlines. I'm just using the original genius to have some fun.

 **Warning:** **OC** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. **NonCanon.** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! So if you're oversensitive for previous lives affecting the present, well, perhaps its not a fic worth your time. Implied suicide.

 **Summary:** She was not supposed to wake up. She had made sure of it. But when she did, it was to a living skin she never imagined herself wearing. Death never scared her, but facing that which she once lost might just be even more frightening. Could she stop history from repeating itself? She already lost one, she didn't think she could lose another.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 1

 **.oOo.**

* * *

She felt short of breath, as if there wasn't enough air in the room to breathe. But it was ridiculous, especially as her eyes caught sight of a high ceiling, bounds and bounds of free space between her and the white painted expance of wood. Fingers clutched the sweaty fabric across her chest, feeling the up and down motions as it expanded, sucking in air with a force that could not be normal.

It was a ripple. Starting in her chest and spreading, reaching down her back to finally churn outwards, deep into her stomach. Lika wave, growing in strength before it abated.

 _Pain_.

"Mikoto?"

She gasped and wrapped her arms around her middle. Somehow, she had seated herself. But she barely registered the change in elevation. All she could focus on was the pain her stomach that just barely overrode the intense pain in her head. A deep, thought-impairing pulsation that made her think her scull was about to explode any minute.

Cool hands brushed her skin and a deep base brushed her ears. "Mikoto? Is it the baby?"

 _The baby?_

She opened her eyes slightly, still squinting against the pain. A face hovered beside her, but she didn't pay it any attention as her eyes were immediately drawn to the great bulge of her stomach. The flesh hard and uncomfortably painful the way it strained against the confines of her body.

She breathed harshly through her clenched teeth. Suddenly even more upset by this new discovery. She could hardly believe it. It was too unreal.

There was motion around her and the faint sound of wood scraping before a murmur of voices reached her ears. A sharp order, a light being lit in the soft darkness and a pair of small feet scuttering across springy flooring.

"Kaa-san?"

A great sigh rumbled from beside her and the mattress shifted. "Itachi, now is not the time."

But small hands still latched unto her arm, pulling at it and causing her gaze to shift from the incredulous sight of her expanded girth to a pale face framed by onyx tresses and a pair of impossibly large, obsidian eyes.

"Kaa-san? Is the baby coming?" His eyes grew even larger as the question gave life to numerous others. "Is that why it hurts? Why is the baby hurting you?"

"Itachi," the same exasperated voice scolded. Tugging the child free from her arm as he went about the room. His arms carried various items, many of what she through her pain filled haze couldn't fathom why he bothered bringing at all. "Here, Mikoto."

She stiffened beneath his touch as he dragged a wet rag along her face and neck. It was cool. Pleasant. But his foreign hands on her felt wrong. Even more so when it felt like her stomach was on the verge of bursting. She hunched over further, causing the man to tsk loudly.

"Itachi. Go look what's taking old aunt Izue so long."

The boy, who could not be more than five gave a frightened nod before leaving in a rush of steps, all of which echoed long after he left the house. It left her on edge, for now she was alone with the man. A fact that didn't sit well with her at all.

It was disconcerting.

Fugaku tried not to frown at his wife's odd behaviour. He had awoken to find Mikoto bent over in bed. Her face pale as a sheet even as she was drenched in sweat. At first, he thought it another of his wife's nightmares. The woman had had one every now and then ever since her pregnancy started. A weird complication the midwife had assured them was a common occurance. They had lessened in frequency now that the end was nearing. But somehow, he doubted they would stop all together.

This time, however, did not seem to be the aftermath of another bad dream. She was too shaken for it to be one, and her pained featuers only ascertained him off it further. It worried him. She still had more than a month left until the estimated time of birth, but apparently her body had decided it was time to give birth _now_. Not in five weeks.

He brushed sweaty strands from her face and away from her neck. "Perhaps, you should lie down? Save your strength for the birthing?"

His eyes only became more concerned once she jerked out his reach. Her form trembling but not a sound escaping her pale lips, crushed together as if to keep down a scream. Was this how it was supposed to be? Her last time with Itachi had not been nearly as painful, nor was she so obviously affected by it. Something bubbled deep in his gut and he started instead to rub strong strokes up and down her back, trying to ease the tense muscles there. Something he knew from last time Mikoto appreciated as it distracted her from the pain.

It was not long before another spasm hit her and Fugaku found himself unconsciously counting the minutes between them. One. Two. Three.. It was happening too fast, far faster than her last birth. He knew that first time mothers usually had slower births because the birthcanal was untried. But surely, a second child would not progress as fast as this?

A low keening noise filled the air that set the hairs of his neck on end. Her breaths turned laboured, almost panicked.

Then he felt a warm wetness soaking through the fabric of his sleeping attire and looked down, horror growing on his face as a shallow puddle stretched out on the white linen.

 _Blood._

* * *

Itachi did not bother hiding his terrified state as he listened to the screaming. His mother, the normally gentle Mistress of the Clan was screaming, a heavy mixture of pain and fear. Something he never thought he'd hear from her lips.

He felt nauseous. He wished he could make it stop. And not for the first time that night Itachi wished he never asked for another sibling. This was all his fault and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive himself if she didn't make it through this.

The adults thought he didn't know. They thought their whispered conversations and worried looks went unnoticed. But Itachi was not so easily fooled. He was already five. There was little that passed his curious eyes unnoticed. His academy teacher said it was a good trait for a ninja. But Itachi believed it was an even better trait for a child living amongst adults. Many of whom thought they knew better and made a habit of hiding things from those they thought were too young to understand.

Itachi never appreciated it. Being treated like an ignorant child. So far, his mother was the only one to treat him according to his age openly. All others simply praised him for being so skilled at his young age. Bragged that he was such a good, budding shinobi that would make the clan proud. For was that not to be expected of the heir to the Clan? At least, that was what his father continued to tell him. That he had to be the example. The image of what the Clan _could_ be.

His father's harsh teachings were tough and often left him feeling inadequate. Most times his best _simply wasn't good enough_ no matter how hard he tried. So he trained. And trained. For hours and hours he conditioned his body to act, live and breathe like a shinobi. Smothering the aches, the constant fear and growing paranoia that continued to stake its claim on him. He controlled himself and drove himself forward to become the perfect manifestation of a shinobi. One like the ones from the olden days, when his clan was still revered for their strength. Their will and power to succeed. It pleased the elders and never failed to gain his father's approval. But at times, he missed the unconditional acceptance many of his friends received. The sense of family, of _belonging_.

That was when Itachi started to hope he could gain a companion. Someone to share in on his fate. Another who could understand how hard it was to be someone other than oneself.

Someone, who could love Itachi for simply being Itachi. Not the perfect puppet made to further their own gain. But the child that was forced to become an adult far too quickly.

Unconditionally.

 _Loved_.

Another scream, high and ringing in the air. The rushed words of the women inside the bedroom: 'Where is the medical nin? Hold on, Mistress! Fugaku-sama will be back soon.'

"Please-!" His mother's voice echoed against the walls, tired and almost delusional in quality as she panted for breath. "..Please.. Take it out-!"

Itachi closed his eyes, his small hands curling into fists. "Tou-san.. Please hurry..."

 _Forgive me, Kaa-san._

"Ahh-!"

His heart ached, his stomach curling threateningly even as his knuckles turned white. Teeth clenched tight.

 _I was selfish._

The door slammed open. "Where is she!?"

A woman bearing hair of the darkest red burst through the doorway, her hand dragging a clearly half-asleep woman in by the hand. Her clothes were rumpled, but even so Itachi could recognize the pale green uniform of Konoha Hospital.

 _A medic nin._

His father's tall form entered behind them. His face drawn, worried as he quickly rounded them. Nearly hoisting the captive medic in with him he hurried down the hall towards the bedroom. "This way! Hurry!"

The medic looked bewildered, but followed none the less. Leavning the still huffing redhead behind. "I can't believe it! Rushing like this.. Couldn't manange another month, could you Mikoto?" The redhead tsked, before her own hands went to the small of her back, arching it a bit which made her own growing stomach look even bigger. It was not nearly as big as his mother's but rather a clear bump visible beneath the loose sleeping shirt she wore over her pants.

Itachi immediately noticed how the other clan members present stiffened around the woman. But Itachi couldn't really care less. This woman had brought help and if his father's frazzled appearance was anything to go by it was badly needed.

The woman seemed to notice his stare after a moment as her head turned his way. Her blue eyes sized him up in the dark, clearly confused about why a child was awake and sitting in the dimly lit hall. "Oh, you must be Itachi-chan, ne?

Itachi flinched at the adress, but the woman didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps she simply ignored it? Her smile widened somewhat as she approached, crouching down before him. "Are you nervous? It's okay to be nervous, you know?" She winced as another low cry echoed down the hall. "Giving birth in no simple thing. It's much like a battle, only it's between yourself and your body, but with a much sweeter victory in the end."

Itachi blinked owlishly at her. Unsure of how to respond as he stared fixed at her, taking in the pearly white row of teeth she used to try and make him feel better. But when he didn't reply to her words the redhead sighed, her thumb coming to brush against his eyebrow. It made him close his eyes and for the first time he noticed the deep, itching sensation in his eyes. He rubbed at them, and it took a few blinks until the sensation faded fully. But when it did, the woman's face softened further once a strange feeling of success rushed through him.

"Don't rush it." She held out a hand to him. "Name's Kushina by the way. We actually met a few years ago, but you wouldn't remember. You were little more than a toddler at the time, after all. What's your name?"

He felt a bit indignant at the tone used, but chose to ignore it in favor of getting the strange woman out of his face. "Itachi."

Why the woman asked for his name when it was clear she already knew who he was remained a mystery. Perhaps a gesture to make him feel more comfortable around her, to make it seem they were on equal ground with each other? His dark obsidian eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't get the chance to point out the obvious flaw in her plan.

"Great." She stood, stretching her legs and once again rubbing her back. "How does it feel? You're about to be a big brother! Isn't it exciting?"

Itachi spared a glance down the hall. The area had become ominously silent compared how loud everything was just a moment before. He hesitated, fingers worrying the short sleeping yukata he was wrapped up in. He felt naked. Even more so without his wooden kunai and shuriken on his person. They were little help if he was to be truly attacked. But it was comforting to have that small assurance, especially when most opponents were much, much taller than himself.

"I guess."

Kushina's brows rose and it became clear she was keeping her laughter down.

 _How cute._

She brushed her hair out of her face. It was mere chance that she sensed Fugaku's erratic chakra pass by her apartment earlier that night. Being as restless as she was, she had a hard time sleeping when Minato was out on missions. She blamed the baby, who had a habit of kicking her in the ribs when she least expected it. But this time she was glad for her periodic bouts of insomnia. Still, if Minato found out she went searching the village in the dead of night he might actually scold her for reckless behavior. Not that she would blame him.

When she finally found the disturbed Uchiha on his way to the village hospital she knew something was up.

They may not have been friends, and Fugaku always was a particularly efficient dampener to the friendship between Mikoto and her, but Kushina would never be as heartless as not to notice when a fellow shinobi was in need of assistance.

It had taken them thirty minutes to track down an available medic nin. Many of whom were already busy dealing with one of the many operations scheduled that night. Fugaku was a man of few words and, to make it worse, _proud_. But when the famed head of the Uchiha clan dissolved into a – by Uchiha standards, anyway – worried mess in front of the shocked medic, Kushina knew something serious was about.

Mikoto was her friend and team-mate before her jounin promotion and the years of Mikoto's marriage that dragged them apart. But it was no mere fluke that the expecting mothers met earlier that spring. Both equally surprised to hear that the other was pregnant.

Kushina, always one for the dramatics, decided it must be _fate_.

Now, knowing that her old friend was in danger made her stomach twist. It had taken more than a little Uzumaki determination before they finally managed to rope a medic nin into following them to the compound.

Usually, the Uchiha used their own healers. They had more than enough of them among the civilian population of the clan and the midwife that helped Mikoto through her last birth was top notch, skilled enough to manage any situation outside the Hospital.

Kushina pressed her lips firmly into a line.

Little did anyone know the Uchiha rarely bothered taking help from the village resources simply because of the discriminative treatment of the clan. Their innate pride be damned! Kushina was convinced that the strained atmosphere between the clan and the village was to blame for the Uchiha's further isolation of themselves. There was no doubt in her mind that the Uchiha were being ignored politically, but it had taken quite a while until the overall discontent started to spread into other parts of the village proper as well. And the Uchiha had only stood by and allowed it to happen.

 _Not that their stubborn and stuck-up natures made it any easier to absolve any growing malcontent between the village factions. They were simply asking for trouble, what with how set they were on managing everything by themselves. Typical Uchiha._

A high-pitched cry made Kushina and Itachi's heads swerve towards its origin. But even as Itachi's face paled further, joy started on the redhead's surprised countanace.

Itachi, for one, didn't know what to do with the information. He knew that the cries were not his mother's. They were far too high to be so. But the sudden lack of his mother's chakra, something he had just this year started to learn sensing, made him tense.

Everything grew eerily quiet and now only the howling of a child filled the air.

It must have been a second, perhaps minutes, before the door was slid open. His father's tall form slipped out, walking steadily down the hall to slump dead tired onto one of the seating pillows in the main room.

Itachi felt the impressions of the tatami mats on the bare soles of his feet for a split second before he stood before his father. Eyes tinged with disbelief as he stared down at this father's arms. There was a fabric smelling faintly of blood and inside it was something Itachi thought he'd never see.

It was pink with red and brown splotches of residue in some places, a small tuft of dark hair on its head. The face was round, pinched and had a tiny little nose. Like a miniature version of himself, only with more strong features leaning towards his mother's likeness.

His father raised tired eyes at him, stiffening for a moment as if sensing something before he relaxed, one hand reaching out to ruffle through Itachi's dark hair.

"What? Are you not going to greet him, Itachi?"

His father's deep voice echoed inside him for a moment before he realized what had been said. His obsidian eyes widened, tracing the figure as the little bundle squirmed. Appropriately, a tiny hand fled the protective wrapping and Itachi did not hesitate to slip his finger into it. The grip was _strong_ , as if it never wished to let go. It made something warm grow inside him.

"Hello, little brother."

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! So if you're oversensitive for previous lives affecting the present, well, perhaps its not a fic worth your time. Implied suicide.

 **A/N:** Well then, chapter 2 of _Trapped within Foreign Skin._ This chapter is a bit Fugaku-centric. But that will change throughout the story and since I'm not set on a leading character yet that will probably vary as well. It's just easier to ease everyone in by using the surrounding characters right now. Oh, and don't forget! This is a very family oriented fic – Uchiha and all that. Which means that a lot will focus on Itachi, Sasuke and the lives around them. Just a... you know, little warning. Anyhow, thanks for the great response! Now, enjoy! – DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Fugaku had to admit he was very grateful for Kushina's selfless nature. Even though he thought the woman beyond annoying and always pointed out her flaws to Mikoto during their early courtship, he could not seem to thank her enough when she offered to take care of the baby, such a foreign thing, as he waited for his wife to recover.

Mikoto.

He did not think his heart could have continued on beating if she had died that night. The split moment her chakra flickered out of existence his breath caught in his throat. Fugaku barely registered the newborn, still wet and bearing gore from its passage into the world, as it was set into his arms. The medic, cursing under her breath, working at unbelievable speed to stop the bleeding.

It had been so much blood.

When ninja reached his age, one many shinobi would be envious of seeing, you realized the simple facts about life and the curious circumstances surrounding the end of it. That no matter how severe the injury, the body's innate chakra system would work until the last possible moment to try and restore equilibrium. To keep the circulation of spirit energy running until the body had lost all hope of turning fate around.

To see that ancient warning system flicker out into nothing – _fading_ out of existance – almost made his knees buckle, for it could only mean one thing. That death was inevitable. There was no chance of restoration, of mending the essential flow of life through her veins.

Tears burned behind his eyes, but he could not let them out. Fugaku would not let their watery hold over him blur his sight. It would only lead to disabling grief and he could not faulter now. Not now when another life clung to him, depended on his body heat and chakra signiture to feel safe.

Izue, the woman that had delivered Fugaku himself into the world over thirty years ago and was the sole individual still alive that had probably seen more of him than any one else, steered him out of the room. His feet moved on their own accord, somehow bearing him away from the sight of the room towards signatures he could recognize.

Itachi.

His face was stiff. Far more like a mask than Fugaku wished to admit at the moment. But he could not let his son see the extent of the fear raging through him. It was only the red eyes of his son that brought reality back to him. Itachi's bright, one tomoed eyes glowing eerily in the dark.

 _Ah.. Forgive me, Itachi. I never meant for you to feel so scared._

He pushed all his strength into relaxing his body, allowing his chakra to restabilize into a slow, continuous flow. The boy reacted instinctively, his shoulders loosening and the reflexive activation of his clan's cursed dojutsu retreating back into his normal, black obsidian.

Having his son – _no, that's not right_ – his _sons_ so close to him caused the surge of grief to abate a bit. Fugaku watched with guarding eyes as Itachi interacted with his youngest. A child he hadn't noticed until now was the split image of his mother. Down to the very dark indigo strands of his hair. How wonderful it would have been, to have a daugther exactly like her. But his mind reminded him of the joy the news of another son had brought him just minutes before. His fatherly pride inflating until it barely managed to fit inside his chest any longer, bringing an honest smile to to his face for once. A monumental day, surely.

"His name is Sasuke," he said, voice trembling with emotion. Anyone present in that single moment could have later testified of Fugaku, fourth head of the Uchiha Clan, being _emotional_. Itachi must have sensed how uncharacteristic it was of him, but as always, the boy held a tight leash over his own actions. Barely giving a nod in response as he continued to let the newborn hold his finger.

The rest of the night was a blur that faded into a long headache. For once he finally managed to set Itachi to bed and had handed Sasuke over into the safe care of his wife's former team-mate, who he had set up for the remains of the night in their spare guestroom, all the worries and fears melded together to make him very, _very_ tired. Fugaku walked in a daze. Sending his worried clansmen home and asking his cousin and right hand man to take care of the meetings he would be absent from in the morning.

Izue, kami bless that old woman, received him into the room with careful hands and a tray of steaming green tea. The bedroom had been cleared, aired out and now infused with the strong scent of incense. Jasmine, his wife's favourite. But Fugaku doubted it was because of his wife's strong fondness of the flower that it burned thick enough to cause a faint smoke cloud high along the ceiling. But the scent was strong and fresh, enough to hide the overhanging smell of blood and death that clung to the room.

"Sit down, Fugaku-sama."

He allowed himself to be hauled into a seat. His eyes never leaving the bed. The sheets had been cleared, he noted. But the stark white of them only made his wife's pallid skin look even paler. She had been arranged comfortably, lying on her back with her long, indigo hair fanned out over her pillow. The medic still sat at her side. Palms infusing green chakra at a trickling flow.

If he had used his sharingan, he might have noted how much of the medic's reserves had been used up. But he didn't dare to, for activating it would also show him Mikoto's. Fugaku didn't know how he would react to see such a final veiw of her death. Of a body void of essential, life enabling spiritual chakra.

Hands clamped over his shoulders.

"She's going to be fine, Fugaku-sama. The birth was problematic, dangerous even... The complications were hard to pay, but she still breathes. She _lives_."

Fugaku watched the slow rise and fall of Mikoto's chest. Weak, compared to normal, but it _was_ there. There was blood flowing beneath her skin, chakra pooling to commit into a weak but steady signature that buzzed at him even at this distance. His hands tightened around his tea cup, leeching every drop of heat it could offer him.

His eyes burned.

Izue exchanged a look with the medic as soon as the woman let up on her chakra transplantation technique. Her sceptical eyes lingered on Mikoto for a moment longer. It would have to do. There was little more she _could_ do in this case. At least, now the Clan head's wife was stable. Even if not all had gone according to plan, she would recover.

The midwife steadied her a bit as she came to sit opposite the Uchiha. The normally stern man's face was drawn blank, as if this whole mess was too much too fast for him to comprehend.

"Izue-san is right. She will live." The breath that whooshed out of Fugaku's closed lips came as a surprise for the medic. "With enough time to rest and regain her strength there should not be anything to hinder her from regaining her full abilities."

Fugaku's brow furrowed. "But?"

The medic closed her eyes, before she turned her opened gaze on her lap. Normally, there would be time for her to conclude the best way to impart such news. But she wasn't in the hospital now and saying it in the intimacy of the couple's bedroom made everything so... _personal_.

She drew a deep breath, her voice clinical as she tried to make her point clear. "Your wife... She lost a lot of blood. We do not know what caused the premature delivery, but thankfully the child remains unaffected by it all."

Dark obsidian eyes bore into her and she felt like squirming beneath the heavy gaze.

"Your wife, however... It was not all without complications." She clasped the cup offered by the midwife, carefully drawing strength from the heat it exuded. "I have stopped the bleed and repaired as much as I could considering the surrounding circumstances. But there are things that may need... _surgical_ mending. I am afraid her womb was damaged. Too much for it to allow another gestation."

"You.. You mean to say we cannot-" He stopped, jaw clenching for a moment before he gathered himself. "She cannot concieve another child."

"It is not that she _cannot_ get impregnated. It is only my educated opinion that I seriously doubt she can carry another baby to term. It would be dangerous, both for her and the baby. The tissue, the amount of vasculature I had to cut off to stop the bleed. I do not think the current environment of her womb to be favorable for childbearing. It is too risky."

It was like looking at a stone statue. But she couldn't falter now. It is important that she get through to him about how important this is.

"It is my professional recommendation that you allow surgical removal of the womb. It will minimize the risk of it starting to bleed again."

Fugaku turned from the medic to Izue. The woman looked grim in the soft light, her wrinkled face pulled into a mask of sad determination.

"That is my opinion as well, Fugaku-sama."

The bottom of his stomach fell beyond his reach. But a single glance at his wife deep in medically induced sleep made his decision for him.

His throat felt raw, but his voice came out grave. "Very well."

* * *

Kushina never realized a baby was so much work. Well, to be honest, the first days were easy. The little Uchiha slept most of the day and only stirred for the bottle and when she changed him. Otherwise, the baby was blissfully asleep most of the time. Unknowing of the world and the happenings in the Uchiha houshold.

Kushina was not so lucky.

Four days had past since Mikoto was rushed off to surgery loaded on a medical transport with Fugaku following pale-faced behind. The compound was alive with whispers of Mikoto's state and many concerned Kushina's own presence in the main house. Matters where only made worse since Fugaku was not available to dissuade the false rumours. The man had practically locked himself inside his bedroom with his wife. Barely leaving the house at all these days.

So instead Kushina listened to the gossip regarding that fateful night. The stories ranged all the way from assasinations and failed attempts to overthrow the Uchiha Head's power to her being Fugaku's hidden mistress and Kushina now deciding to making her claim on Fugaku being her unborn child's father, the stress of the reveal pushing the Mistress of the Clan into a premature birth.

Frankly, that last one had Kushina rolling on the floor with laughter for a good half hour before she calmed. The ridiculousness of the statement was just too absurd to be anything but false. Not that Fugaku wasn't attractive in his own dark and handsome Uchiha way, but Kushina was happily in love with the sunshine of her life. And if anyone thought she would leave Minato simply because of the promise of being the wife of a clan head then they had a lot coming!

She stopped her inner ramblings to use the corner of a thin baby blanket to wipe at the dribble of milk that rolled down the boy's cheek. If she was to be honest, Sasuke made her feel like she was bottle feeding Mikoto most of the time and she could already tell the baby had the same temperament his mother had when they were young. The way his face scrunched up in annoyance at her probing fingers in the middle of feeding made that clear quite quickly.

"Oi, oi. No need to rush..." The boy ate like he feared it would end and leave him starving. Though, to be fair, Sasuke always cried when the bottle ran out. But since Izue-san said one bottle was enough for each feeding, Kushina didn't dare increase the dosage. The boy would spit up half of it minutes later, anyway. So she decided frequent but sufficient feedings would be most favorable.

After burping him, she settled Sasuke over her chest. The boy fit snuggly over her bump and the humming she made as they rocked in the little chair quickly had him dozing.

She smiled softly down at the sight.

Not for the first time Kushina wondered if her and Minato's child would be quite as managable. She had a inkling that both their bubbling and mischievous personalities would make a bit more... _energy_. But Kushina always wanted a lively child. One she could play and share her little tricks with. He would be half uzumaki, after all. They were known to be active.

Something crashed in the hall and sleepily – Kushina really hated how tired this pregnancy thing made her – Kushina got to her feet. Taking careful steps, she gently set Sasuke in his crib that had been moved into her temporary room. Wrapping the robe she'd been given tighter around herself she creeped out into the hall.

Then the shouting started.

Kushina neatly dodged the shattered pieces of clay that littered the floor. Nodding approvingly at the large hole it had made on its way through the shoji.

None too subtly, she peeked inside the bedroom, eyes going wide at the scene of a barely standing Mikoto leaning against one wall, another vase in hand. Her obsidian eyes wide with terror as she stared down Fugaku where he stood across the room, his hands raised in self-defense.

Her smile faultered. "Eh, Mikoto?"

Mikoto's panicked eyes flickered to Kushina for a moment, before they went back to Fugaku.

"Don't-" Mikoto paused to pant for breath, her shoulders heaving. "Don't you _dare_ take another step near me."

One of Kushina's neatly sculpted eyebrows raised at the words. Now _that_ sounded more like _her_ Mikoto. Before the personality was forced out of her in order to become the perfect clan mistress.

"Mikoto.." Fugaku tried hesitantly. "Put the vase down."

The brunette only tightened her grip around the family heirloom. "I said... get _out!"_

Kushina decided that perhaps this was her time to step in. "Fugaku. Perhaps you should, you know, take a walk? Go play with Sasuke for a bit, I'll be right back."

The man blinked and looked like a huge questionmark for a second, but nodded and sent his wife a last wary glance before he inched his way along the wall over to the door. Once the male was out of the room Kushina barely had the time to rush forward in order to soften Mikoto's fall as her legs abruptly gave out beneath her. She clasped her friend's upper arm as she watched Mikoto struggle to calm her breathing. Her voice rambling something that sounded suspiciously like 'what-the-hell-is-this' and 'I've-gone-mad-completely-mad'.

Kushina lowered herself down on her knees, tugging the ceramic out of Mikoto's hold with a clatter before she grasped the panicking woman's shoulders. "Mikoto?" Kushina ducked her head, catching sight of the lines of water streaming down her her friend's face. "Oh, kami. Mikoto..."

She didn't struggle as the redhaired woman dragged her forward, enveloping her into a hug. She felt so shaken. So confused. Why was she here? Why was she even breathing? She shook her head from side to side, her face brushing against the woman's neck as she desperately clung to her robe. Was this god's way of punishment? To make her pay for taking her life in her own hands? No, she couldn't believe it! It was too strange, too concentrated around this _new skin_ for it to be a plot of that caliber. But why then would she be alive?

"Hush, Mikoto. Everything's fine, dattebane." Mikoto's body heaved a great breath and Kushina could feel her chakra, what little she had managed to recover these last few days, stabilize. Kushina frowned, for the usual calm lake that was Mikoto's chakra was no longer the same. Instead, it _fizzled_. Not abruptly like the lash of a growing fire, but sedately as if in a jitter of sparks, all perfectly tuned together to form a uniform hum.

If Kushina wasn't such a good sensor credit to her connection with the kyuubi inside her she wouldn't even have noticed. The change was too fine to pick up on without the enhanced senses the tailed beast's chakra provided. But at this close a range it wasn't even debatable. It was as if her chakra had manifested a whole new form. Something that should have been impossible even after the most strict forms of chakra training. Hell, Mikoto haven't even been in active duty these last six years! Such a huge gap in shinobi training would make such a feat impossible, even by the best shinobi standards.

Kushina pulled away. Her blue eyes growing with question as she stared back at the now surprised, but thankfully more calm, woman.

"Who are you, _dattebane_?"

Mikoto froze and Kushina watched as her face went pale. The Uchiha's eyes grew wide as they stared at her, shifting from her face, to her hair to her face again. Her body drawing back, setting a distance that might as well have been a mile from the sense of rejection it gave Kushina.

"Ku-Kushina?" The redhead frowned, but did not move as Mikoto's gaze grew even wilder. "Uzumaki Kushina, is it?"

"Of course it is, Mikoto! Who else would I be?" Then her humor dropped a bit when she realized Mikoto was not joking with her as she thought. After all, the confusion on her face was almost palpable and made the kyuubi container feel a bit of alarm. Kushina laughed nervously. "Ne.. You're acting strange, Mikoto..."

Her friend's chakra jumped.

"Strange..?"

"Yes." Kushina said with pause. "Strange. As in really, really _wierd_."

Mikoto seemed to collect herself for a moment, her face smoothing out into blank calm. Trusting obsidian eyes boring into her.

"Kushina." She hesitated for a second, but quickly found her resolve. "Can I go home?"

* * *

"It's perfectly normal." His hands wound themselves in the fabric of his dark-blue haori, face hard as he listened to their words. "It's completely understandable that she would feel a bit.. _off_ after the ordeal she's been through. A traumatic experience such as her own, we should be glad she's already up and on the mend."

"So I should just ignore my wife's disregard for me?" He spat, feeling conflicted. "To see her eyes gaze at me as if I'm some kind of stranger that just happens to be her lawfully bound husband?"

The civilian healer Izue had forcefully bothered to drag back with her to the clan head's home shifted in her seat. "It will resolve itself sooner or later, Uchiha-sama. Temporary memory gaps are not at all that uncommon. More often, it is due to a traumatic hit on the head or similar damage to the circulation of the brain. A simple disruption of the normal braincell function. Considering the amount of blood lost during the birthing process... It is not impossible that the lack of sufficient blood pressure left her brain without sufficient blood flow for a shorter period of time, resulting in temporary ischemia compromising normal memory function.

 _What you don't want to say is that my wife was dead for an undeterminable amount of time which is bound to have screwed with her head._

Fugaku knew he should be greatful. Count himself lucky even that his wife was alive and breathing, even if her mind had suffered a bit of damage in the process. But after seeing Mikoto, so clearly afraid of him once she woke up.. He never wished to see that expression her face again. It was like they had never met before. The wife he had come to recognize over the years fallen away into a total stranger.

"That is not to say there is no chance of her regaining what memories have been lost. Humans are resilient creatures, Uchiha-sama. You would be surprised what they can overcome with just a bit of determination. That she recalls names, people and other significant details is a good sign of a possible full recovery."

Fugaku clenched his teeth. "Forgive me for sounding pessimistic, but I have to be practical."

The two Uchiha women froze in their seats, Izue looking particularly affected by his shaken tone. Fugaku swallowed, forcing his voice to steady. "I cannot wait for Mikoto to come to her senses. I have a child – _children –_ in need of their mother. A newborn that have not even been held by his mother's arms yet. Itachi, him I can manage. But to care for the baby on my own..."

He could not deny that at this moment he felt very hopeless. For no matter how much help he had from Kushina, he could not shake the fear that the child Mikoto had been waiting for so eagerly would never know her love. That Mikoto, _his Mikoto_ , would never return.

The women across from him had no comforting words to offer and sat in silence. One that only cemented the fact that he was truly alone in all this. And for the first time in his life Fugaku wondered how he could have ever managed to live without his wife before they married. He felt so lost.

For he now saw that his life was not as easy without his silent pillar of support beside him and with all that was happening around him Fugaku feared he would lose it forever.

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	3. Chapter 3

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist!

 **A/N** Another chapter! I'll aim to have the next one up by the weekend. **_On the OC/SI_** : I like strong female leads too so don't worry! Mikoto won't be the homemaker locked inside the Uchiha compound forever, for I don't think the original canon would change much if it was. But I want her to stay a bit in the background, which could be considered favorable for her cause. That doesn't mean she won't have an impact though. At the moment, I think she's a bit confused, but I'm convinced it will change once the whole dead-back-to-life thing sinks in a bit. Still, I'm trusting everyone to shake me back to my senses if it something starts to turn too awry. So comment on the good, the annoying – whatever's biting at you, really! I enjoy reading your reviews, and as always, your attention really warms my heart! Yours –DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 **Chapter 3**

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Mikoto was propped up against pillows when they came by. Kushina's face was exhuberant as always while she carried a little bundle, small enough to fit in her arms with an ease that should not be possible, chattering happily all the while. Behind her legs, the same child she had seen that night between the blasts of pain lingered.

In this situation, seeing Uzumaki Kushina living and breathing and coupling the familiar features of her 'supposed' husband with the miniature version of the killer Itachi would once grow up to be, it was not difficult to imagine _who_ the boy was. Nor was it hard to put two pieces together and realize exactly who the now fussing newborn was in Kushina's arms.

Still, she would be lying if she said she did not find the sight of Uchiha Itachi, infamous nuke-nin of Konoha, disconcerting. Over the days since she woke up she had used all waking hours of the day to try and organize the jumble of thoughts in her head. But no matter how many times she tried to straighten things out, they never matched up.

It was like her mind was not made for the skin she was placed in. Or perhaps she was and her brain was slowly going mad, for she could not even recognize her own face anymore other than by the strangly fixed name of Mikoto that her subconscious thoughts would scream at her whenever she gazed at her own reflection. It was like watching the world from the other side of a glass. She felt _disconnected_ and severely out of place in this home where everything smelled of ash and a soft rush of water into numerous bamboo fountains filled out the eerie silence. She rarely saw anyone and even her so called husband had started to avoid her. Which, in her mind, confirmed that something was very, _very_ amiss.

And then there was the odd sensation of deja-vu that flickered to life whenever someone she recognized caught her attention.

Yes. Mikoto Uchiha found it strange indeed. Especially when her thoughts often overlapped with other more selfdestructive ones, so heavily tinted with sadness that she felt like crying her heart out whenever something triggered them.

"Mikoto?"

She looked up, her contemplative eyes once more catching the uncertain gaze of the first person to ever greet her – and not _scare_ her – in this myriad of unending confusion.

"Kushina."

The redhead's smile faltered for a moment but then she straightened anew, her face bright with positive energy. It was exhausting to be around, as it seemed to suck her strength straight out of her bones just to be in Kushina's radiant shadow. But she endured. If only because Mikoto needed something to cling to in the middle of this storm she was caught up in.

"Look! I brought someone to meet you." Kushina pushed Itachi a bit more forward so that he was not so obvious in using her as a living shield. "Go on, Itachi-chan."

Itachi took another step forward before he stopped short. He nervously fingered something in his hands and the child looked so uncomfortable, so _unsure_ that it tugged on something inside her. When the boy then raised his eyes, a weak smile on his face as he held out a carefully picked purple flower barely larger than the palm of his hand, it was like a wall broke deep inside her chest. The thing hidden inside snapping furiously and uncontrollably as it clawed against its confines. Her heart beating in a strong tattoo against the wall of her chest.

"Kaa-san. Kushina-san said you feel better."

Mikoto sucked in a breath and Kushina immediately became alert. Itachi, too, seemed to pick up on the change and froze, hands falling to his sides in silent dejection. It was such a sad sight Mikoto barely realized what she was doing before she found herself stumbling. Her feet barely holding her as she steered her way over, hands reaching out but missing the boy entirely as he was almost violently tugged out of place.

Empty handed, Mikoto stared at the empty space where the boy once was. Water trickled down from her eyes, a slow flow she hadn't noticed until now. Yet the deep, empty feeling inside her did not lessen. It _ate_ at her. Somehow reacting to the sudden loss she felt herself waver. Her eyes searching, desperate.

She found what she was looking for a few feet away. Big obsidian eyes blinking at her owlishly.

"I.." Mikoto started, before she shook her head.

This was not _her_ boy. This was not the sensitive child she missed so much. The memory of which tore at her insides. Leaving her heart raw and mangled. She studied her shaking hands, swallowing past the lump lodged in her throat.

An old wound that could never be healed.

"Forgive me." Mikoto whipered, her voice fragile enough it was close to shattering. "Forgive me, Itachi. I never meant to scare you. I'm so sorry."

She brought her arms around her. Trying to fight off the cold that sank its teeth through her. Her weak body barely held her up and on some dark level she wished it wouldn't. She wished she would fall asleep and never wake. She was so tired. So _exhausted_ in her very soul it felt like ice burned through her, numbing each place it touched. Leaving her hollow.

Salty droplets splattered on the floor. A silent drip, drip, drip.

Mikoto drew a shuddering breath.

"Oi, Itachi-!"

She didn't have the time to look up before something warm and utterly _wonderful_ pressed into her, burying its head into her chest as short arms came up to wrap around her neck. Her face remained shocked, her mouth slightly agape as the weight of the boy bowled her over and caused her to fall from her knees onto her back. Yet, despite the rough change in position Itachi didn't move and continued to cling to her like his life depended on it.

" _Kaa-san..._ " He sobbed. A heart-rendering sound that only a small child could make. Her arms wrapped around him, one hand coming to stroke his silky dark hair. "I am sorry, Kaa-san. Please, don't go away again. I won't ask for anything. Not if you'll stay."

She held him tighter, breathing in his somehow familiar scent. She _knew_ this child. She knew it as sure as her heart kept beating. It was such a primal affection, spreading through her system like wildfire she felt herself shake with the force. So she held him. Mikoto held him so close she feared she would never be able to let the boy go ever again.

Feelings overlapped. Thoughts and memories merging until there were no seams. As if they had always been one and the same. New and old, meeting across space and time.

"I'm not leaving. See? Kaa-chan's not going anywhere. Shh.. I'm right here. I'm here, baby."

Itachi's face rubbed against her front. His tears hidden beneath that mop of onyx hair. But sure enough, his breathing soon calmed down into slow but irregular, shaky breaths. It was as if a huge amount if energy was taken from him in a blink, leaving him drained and weak. His mother's scent filled his nose, one he had not indulged in for years. But it had not changed. It was still the same soft smell of sweet strawberries mixed with her favourite perfume: The jasmine bush growing in her garden.

When he next gained consciousness it was to find himself snuggled up against his mother's side. Her warmth radiating through the soft covers wrapped around them as she leaned against the pillows, looking on curiously as Kushina tried to place Sasuke comfortably into her arms.

"He's so tiny." His mother's awed voice filtered over towards him.

"Of course, he is! He's five weeks premature, he's bound to be tiny." Kushina's eyebrows made a leap for her hairline as she took in the fear on her friend's face, as if Mikoto suddenly realized how fragile the child was.

"I.. I shouldn't hold him. I might drop him."

"You won't drop him." Kushina said sternly, her eyes fixing Mikoto in place. "And I'm here, so even if you did there's no harm done. I'll just use my super ninja reflexes to catch him!"

"That's very reassuring," Mikoto shot back sarcastically. But quickly sobered as the full weight of the babe was handed over to her.

It felt like a lifetime since she last held a baby. And watching a baby Sasuke like this was even more absurd. It must be god mocking her...

"Isn't he cute?"

Mikoto raised a brow at her, but admitted, "He does have an adorable, little nose."

Kushina giggled, moving to make herself a seat on the mattress. "Yeah, he gets that from you, don't you think? Little Sasuke is going to be quite the looker when he's grown, I'll bet my ramen stash on it!" Mikoto gave Kushina a look of pure disbelief. "What? Why shouldn't I be able to recognize a bundle of fine Uchiha genetics when I see it? Look at Itachi, he's _five_ and already half the academy girls are tailing after him."

Itachi blushed, burying deeper into his mother's side. Mikoto, however, had her mouth hanging open like a fish.

"I-Itachi, is that true?" When the boy refused to answer her directly and instead mumbled an undeciferable reply beneath the covers Mikoto paled even further, horror growing on her face.

"Well, look on the bright side!" Kushina grinned wide. "If I have a girl you have one thing less to worry about!"

There was a short squeek from his mother, but Itachi didn't have the time to process why it upset her so. His own mind was already busy with furiously interpreting Kushina-san's words. None of which were very comforting to a boy who had just barely gained a new brother, said baby brother who was now guaranteed to be chased and possibly _kidnapped_ by rabid girls after his virtue.

His eyes narrowed at the thought.

 _Not if I can help it._

* * *

The boys, as she had started to call them in her head, came to see her more and more often as the days passed. Kushina was adamant that Mikoto spend time with them, even if she wasn't fit enough to fully care for them yet on her own. It was strange, finding herself bonding with the awkward child, who felt more like a small adult forced into a too small body than a child.

Itachi was smart, that much she could tell from the short conversations they shared during these brief meetings. Far more intelligent than a five-year-old should rightfully be. The way he absorbed his surroundings, always placed each individual action into the larger context, spoke of a child used to being used. He always calculated the best answer. Or should she say, Itachi gave one he _knew_ would be liked by the one he was conversing with. To have her _son_ tip-toe around her, afraid to speak his mind with her, was a novelty.

Sasuke was a whole other story. The babe knew little of what went around him, but he was becoming more and more clingy. It might have been the new routine of breastfeeding him that caused that. Something that initially had taken more than a bit of convincing on both their parts before both mother and son felt comfortable enough with it. This new _intimacy_ was strange for the both of them, and if Mikoto were to be honest, she had feared that first contact long before it had been introduced. Yet, the certainty with which the baby latched onto her breast was shocking. She knew it was pure instict on his part. But to find Sasuke adopting the change so quickly had her on edge.

She was not his mother, after all. Well... Her body might be, but _she_ wasn't.

Mikoto scratched at her arms, the skin itaching as it had been doing these last few days. After having dealt with food allergies of various types for years before her _death_ , an annoying itch should be nothing to her. But this one was on a whole other scale. For instead of rising and then fading, it came in bursts. Small pulses that would make her fingers and forearms feel like angry ants crawled beneath her skin. And despite how much Mikoto scratched at them it did not ease.

She huffed, pulling herself off her bed to walk into the connected bathroom. As had become her routine, she ignored the clearly male-minded items that were still spread about the shelves and stashed away by the bathtub. The assorted towels, always a perfect pair. The _twin_ hairbrushes that sat like old love birds on the ceramic sink.

Mikoto doubted it was accidental that the things had been left behind, for she knew it would have been easy for him to have someone fetch them if he really needed them. No. It was _there_ to mark _his_ presence. To remind her that she was married. Bound to a man she felt nothing for. A strong, proud man. Who, if she were to believe the rumours, was a respected leader of his clan. Already attending to clan duties despite his wife's 'illness'.

 _Uchiha Fugaku._

Whenever that name ran through her head a mix of feelings sparked in her. The dull warmth, that undoubtly was the echoes of the original owner. A conditioned response her body had developed for something it must have once coupled with safety, affection and love. It was.. _foreign_. A sensation that had her questioning this _Mikoto_ she had become. For although she could understand that she must have once felt some kind of affection for the man, as she doubted a woman could beget more than one child with a man she abhorred. Uchiha Fugaku had always been a name she associated with the fall of a clan already past its expiration date. It caused tingling hairs to rise along her spine, set her on edge. To know that Fugaku, who when she had seen him last could seem so harmless, would be prepared to risk everything by planning a coup to overthrow one of the greatest seats of power of this time only years later... There had to be a madman behind that carefully displayed facade. Either that, or a very desperate one.

She spread some of the soothing salve she had been given by the clan healer over her pale skin. Pins and needles still remained, poking sharply and twinging in places. Itching, _always_ itching. Mikoto pressed her fingers over the band of skin closest to her right hand, feeling her steady pulse beat beneath. The skin most proximal to her hands always bothered her the most. As if the flesh protested against her attempts to stop the itching.

Mikoto sighed.

Getting used to this skin was going to take time and some serious work on her part.

Her eyes shifted towards the treebranches moving in the wind outside. They strained against the powerful winds.

Then again, time was something she now had in abundance.

Mikoto smiled, a simple curl at the corners of her lips. Obsidian eyes clearing for the first time since she opened them.

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	4. Chapter 4

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language**.

 **A/N** Thanks for your wonderful reviews and attention! I know this plot is progressing slowly, but I want to get some things out of the way first! This time I explore the relationship between Mikoto and Fugaku-san. (Somehow, thinking of Fugaku without the suffix makes me imagine him glaring at him sternly.) At this point, some may have already noticed the onsided Fugaku/Mikoto pairing. But could it be more? Hm.. I feel there's a big knot that needs some Poor Mikoto. You're not out of the woods yet! Finding equal ground between the two will be hard, but I will try my best!

Next chapter will focus more around Itachi. It's already written, so it should not take long. Until then! – DR

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 **Chapter 4**

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Sasuke was being passed around like a doll between the women. A very lively, obscenely cute and heart-warming doll. Kushina's laughter ringed in the air where she sat beside Mikoto on the embroidered blanket. His wife's lips bearing a wry smile as her eyes followed the child as he went from one Uchiha woman to the next. All cooed at him. A purely female behavior Fugaku always had a hard time undestanding. Mikoto would usually be one of them, even if she did it more in the privacy of their chambers when Itachi was little. But seeing her watchful gaze now, he felt there was a different kind of emotion lingering beneath her calm face. A guardedness she never used to keep around her fellow clansmen showed in her sharp gaze, in the way her fingers kept a firm grip on her royal blue kimono where it covered her lap.

Fugaku had to congratulate Kushina on her ingenuity to place her among familiar faces. Mikoto did, after all, spend a lot of her spare time during her days with her fellow housewives. Fugaku always thought that their similar life choices was what drew her in. But seeing her now, he could only wonder if that was truly the case. For although Mikoto showed no obvious aversion towards socializing with the females of the clan. She wasn't readily assimilating into the group. Instead, she managed to keep herself separated, even at such a short distance.

He dragged a hand over his face. Feeling the rugged beginning of stubble on his cheeks.

 _This_ was not normal.

Ever since the birth and his wife's established memory problems Fugaku found himself overanalysing her every move. Every word she said and the way she acted around others was observed with almost sharingan-like precision. Fugaku knew he was being ridiculous. But he found it easier to try and justify her change than simply accept that she _had_ changed.

She was persistently pulling further apart from the image he had of her. From the Mikoto that would smile kindly at him, always softly whisper words to him when he returned to her in the evenings. Hell, Fugaku barely spent any time with her these days, their interactions stopping at mere greetings in the hallways: An emotionless nod of her head, whenever he asked if she was well. Her pale lips disinterested as she afterwards returned his question, not really caring what he answered.

It was frustrating, _infuriating_ how he had to spend his nights in his old study. A narrow bed not his own bearing him each night. Covers so cold he could barely stand it his only companion. Fugaku's eyes narrowed, still set on the indigo-haired woman oblivious of his presence. She called him 'husband', yet Mikoto did not act like it in the slightest.

So as the weeks drew on and Mikoto grew stronger, more alive, Fugaku found himself missing it. Everything about her. From the old habits to the unconscious gestures and sheer familiarity that was _Mikoto._

Fugaku started to turn away from where he stood steathily spying on his own wife. His body posed against the dark side of the storage building that walled off their garden. He had been on his way to check on her before he needed to head out for the day, as he tended to do even every day. Finding her out of her room and among the flowers in the garden had been a relief. For the ghostly apparition of his dreams that coldly whispered Mikoto was leaving him each night always managed to make his stomach drop when he couldn't find her where he expected to.

But Kushina kept an eye on her. The redhead had even taken the trouble of informing him of it the first day Mikoto was up and moving around the grounds.

Giggles were soon followed by not so subtle whispers and Fugaku stiffened hearing their words. His neck turned to spy over his shoulder only to see the group's full attention on him. There seemed to be a rushed debate going on among the females before Kushina poked Mikoto in her side, causing her to jump a bit. Her eyes glided onto him and Fugaku found himself unconsciously turning around to face her. His face unreadable as he stood under her scrutiny.

Then, after a whole breathless moment, she _smiled_. The kind that softened her eyes and made his heart flop inside his chest at the mere memory. It was quick, no longer than a heartbeat, but in that second he _found_ her. She was in there, somewhere. Hidden from the world and mortal eyes. But he glimpsed her, he was sure of it!

Too fast she aborted the silent stare between them, her hands moving to receive Sasuke. The baby cried at the sight of her, apparently determined to demand her full attention. But Mikoto swept him up into her hold as easily as only a mother could. Easing him close to her breast, the hand still bearing his ring brushing dark strands down.

Such a gentle, loving gesture. For a moment, Fugaku felt a spike of jealousy. But his mind quickly scolded him for it afterwards. What point is there in being jealous of his own infant son? No, Fugaku could not blame Sasuke, or her. After all, this was Mikoto. She had only ever been a tender, loving mother. The mother of _his_ children.

Something warm curled inside him at the thought and he took the opportunity to slip away when nobody would notice it. Thereby forcefully breaking his sight of the endearing moment. His feet led him heavily towards their house and he smoothly slid the shoji shut behind him.

Red flickered in his eyes and it did not surprise him. The sharingan was not only a powerful weapon because it managed to disable its opponent with a mere glance, but because the power behind it was of such a simple yet powerful source.

He forced his breathing into long, steady breaths. Anything to calm the feeling squirming inside his chest.

There was a reason the seasoned sharingan-wielders often became mad before the end. For any _skilled_ Uchiha knew that the more emotion you could draw on, the more powerful you could become. Even if by seeking power you abandoned control. And without control things quickly turned dangerous. It was a price most Uchiha understood well, as generations of being war-bred shinobi had taught it to them the hard way...

Fugaku shut his eyes finally feeling his chakra calm at his bidding. Yet he could not shake the strong sense of being powerless that took root in him as he remembered the old scrolls in the locked clan vaults.

Depending too much on your abilty to feel intense emotion for such extended lengths of time would only be detrimental in the long-term. Especially since it often led Uchiha to hurting those they loved the most in the process.

* * *

Her hands almost dropped the cup she was holding. "What?"

Kushina sighed, used to her friend's habit of suddenly spacing out by now. She adjusted her legs on the pillow. Kushina had long since abandoned the seiza usually desired on such traditional seats in favor of sitting cross legged, which allowed her stomach a bit more room.

"I _said_ , Minato should be on his way back by now." Her face turned dreamy for a moment as she imagined the blond and Mikoto shiverred at the sight, for she could almost see the hearts in Kushina's eyes. "It was supposed to be a simple four week mission, but you know how easily he lands himself in trouble. Last I heard, what should have been a simple escort and protection mission was extended another two weeks!"

Mikoto frowned, but stayed silent as the redhead ranted. "I say that old man want to use him to the fullest before handing that damn hat over. Minato's name still carries a bit of weight around the nations, after all. Especially around those Iwa dogs."

"Ah.. The Yellow Flash, was it?" Her mouth quirked a bit, as Mikoto tried to remember the specifics surrounding the birth of that name. "A bit flashy for a nickname, but I guess that it's better than most versions. Shinobi can get a bit carried away making these things up on the fly."

Kushina quirked an eyebrow. "How you remember these things and not your own birthday never fails to amuse me, dattebane."

Mikoto gaped, but soon shrugged the comment off with a wry grin pulling on her lips. "Age doesn't really matter in the long run. Only when the greys start to set in. Then I'll panic."

They laughed, Kushina clutching her stomach as she did so. "You- You're not _that_ old! Though I'm not sure there won't be a few strands of silver sparking in Fugaku's hair before long the way you are. You'll give him a heart attack one day, I promise."

The laughter abruptly died out at the mention of the Uchiha head and Kushina wiped a tear from the corner of her eye before she paused, seeing Mikoto's face.

"Aw, come on! He's not _that_ bad. Well, he can be a bit of a stick in the mud some times but he's not evil."

"It just hit me. I'll be completely alone when you leave, Kushina. Somehow, the thought of being alone in this house with _him_ and the children..." Mikoto trailed off, her eyes growing somber. "I don't think I can, Mikoto. I don't think I can share space with a man I hardly know."

"Oi. Fugaku's not going to jump you just because I leave the house. He has more honor than that."

"Yes, I realize that. But what if I accidentally invite him?" Mikoto wound her hands together. Ever since that day, when she found him observing them in the garden, her body started to compel her to do things. She didn't think of it at first. It was more of an unconscious action. Something unnoticeable unless you really looked for it. But knowing something _could_ happen... Mikoto did not have enough faith in herself that she could withstand the call. It was hard when her very skin seemed suddenly _drawn_ to the raven. Her body heating up whenever she realized they were near each other or alone together in the hallway.

Kushina grabbed her hand firmly, her face suddenly inches from Mikoto's. "Then be honest with him. Even you can't act well enough to fool an Uchiha. He will start to pick up on it sooner or later, he's very sensitive that way. But believe me when I say this: Fugaku won't force you into anything you don't want."

Kushina didn't understand. Of course, she couldn't! Kushina did not know. Mikoto couldn't just come clean and say it was not her hesitation that set them apart from each other, but that she knew that what Uchiha Fugaku saw was not what she was on the inside. She was _not_ Mikoto. And to be loved like Mikoto felt wrong for numerous reasons. At least, until she could be recognized for her own self.

She sighed.

It was like being back in her old marriage all over again. Fighting the opinions that demanded she stay true, that they work through this. Just another _try._ Even when she knew that what they had was already too damaged to be fixed. If not for her son, she wouldn't have lasted long enough. Now, it seemed, she would have to draw on her strength for different yet dangerously similar reasons.

Because Mikoto doubted Itachi would remain unaffected by her enstrangement. If she was to up and leave now, like her mind kept trying to convince her to do, Itachi would become even more vulnerable mentally. And considering how Itachi had future tendancies towards mass murdering, she doubted he needed the extra push to enter the deadly spiral even faster. Upsetting the delicate balance that kept the boy sane would be dangerous. Not to mention foolish.

"Talk to him, ne?" Mikoto stared at the redhead, big blue eyes pleading with her. "He might understand you better if you just bring it up with him. He won't know how uncomfortable you feel around him if you dont tell him. He's an Uchiha. Not a mind reader."

"You think he will listen?" Mikoto asked, unsure how a man who spent the last few weeks avoiding her just because facing her became too hard and instead saw stalking her from the shadows as the easier option.. Would such a man find straightening things out face to face to be a viable solution?

Kushina tighened her hold. "Just try, ne? For me?"

Something dropped in her stomach. But Mikoto wouldn't let cowerdice rule her. Mikoto's eyes hardened reaching her decision and she nodded.

Kushina smiled.

* * *

He had been stuck in meetings all afternoon when she found him. At first, he found it utterly bewildering to see her standing there before him. Her form, tall and slender, leaning against the opposite wall when he exited the council meeting hall. Her long hair pulled up in a high ponytail, so unlike the usual waterfall his Mikoto normally sported.

She looked... nervous, as she stood there waiting. Her dark eyes holding something he could not set his finger on.

When her eyes landed on him he straightened. Something Fugaku had not felt he needed to do since he last was a young heir approaching the indigo-haired angel he had set his eyes on in secret. He felt _young_ again. And just like the first time he tried to court her, Fugaku felt as if a single word from her lips could shatter his dreams forever or strengthen them indefinitely. Her fleeting gaze could bring him down to earth once more from his position of power. Remind him that he was simply Uchiha Fugaku. That was all she ever needed of him, and what had drawn him to her in the first place.

"My lord Husband." He winced at her stiff and overly respectful words, but remained standing in silence patiently waiting for her to continue. "I- If I could bother you for a bit of your time?"

His eyebrows shot upwards, eyes standing shocked as he took in this defiant creature who was still willing to call on his favor despite everything that had happened between them.

"Of course." He crossed his arms, finding his long sleeves efficient in hiding the clenching of his fingers.

"In private."

Fugaku should have expected it. But nothing could have prepared him for it.

Silently, the pair made their way away from the central uchiha residence, where most administrative affairs were done and towards their own home in the main family enclave.

Fugaku would have led her to his study, if he thought for a second it would make her comfortable. Instead, he brought her back to her – _their –_ chambers. The one place he had avoided like the plague ever since this whole incident started.

It felt strange, walking into the space he once shared with her. Now, Fugaku could see she had made small, subtle changes to it. Gone were the curtains, the windows now admitting the full evening sun which bathed the whole of the room in a soft orange glow. It was more airy now. Less confining and missing the once feminine touch Mikoto added to it with her stylings. Fugaku did not miss that most of his visible possessions had been moved somewhere he could not see. There was a palpable vacuum left behind. Loud enough that you knew something had been forcibly removed, yet empty enough to show that the person now inhabiting the living space had no idea what to replace it with.

Still, it was with a weak sense of nostalgia that Fugaku saw her sit down by the low table on the far end of their chamber. Her hand bidding him to do the same.

 _If having solid wood between us makes you comfortable, so be it._

She did not wait long for him to get comfortable. Her lips drawing breath before she began:

"I have reached the end of my courage, husband, so forgive me if I sound impatient. But I wish to end this tension between us."

Fugaku froze in his seat. The blood in his face vanishing just from hearing Mikoto express her 'wish to end' anything at all, before he realized _what_ exactly she was focusing on. "Tension..?"

She seemed on the verge of sighing, but refrained from doing so.

"I wish to be able to move freely around the house. To go without fear of having someone _spying_ on me."

"Spying?!" He calmed, but not before he searched her features. Her face did not move, but remained calm. Emotionless. There was nothing to note if she felt intimidated by his slight raise in voice. Not the way Mikoto would flinch under it. Slowly bending to his will when they argued. Still, Mikoto did have a point, he reluctantly agreed. Perhaps he had been a bit too thorough? Fugaku thought one or two of his shinobi keeping tabs on her wouldn't have been noticed. They were good at their job, after all. Which was why he'd picked them in the first place! Discreetly, Fugaku tried to discern what exactly upset Mikoto the most? The fact that he had people watching her or that he actually paid clan members to do it for him while trying to keep it from her? But no matter how much he tried to figure her out, nothing slipped past her carefully worn mask.

"Is it not my right to keep myself up to date about my wife's wellbeing?"

Dark eyes looked up at him with disappointment? "You could simply ask."

Fugaku didn't know how to respond to that. The clear honesty in her words had him questioning her motifs. Before he realized why this sudden change came about: He was acting oddly around her and she was obviously picking up on it, feeling distrubed by it. His eyes darkened. Had he taken his worries so far that he now scared her off? Throwing away what little progress he had managed over the weeks?

"Kushina's stay is ending. Are you so afraid of me that you can't even stand my presence?" She jerked away, and Fugaky realized that his hand – his fingers – ghosted just inches away from her cheek. He dropped his hand, the appendage rolling up into a fist on the table. "Do I frighten you that much?"

"I do not.. _know_ you." She said, determined. "Forgive me if I find it hard to relax around a man I hardly know. One who supposedly has seen more of me than any other. Who has... _touched_ me in ways I would never allow unless he had my outmost trust and affection."

He bit his cheek, squashing the indignation her statement gave life to. "I _loved_ you when I took you to wife. I still _do_. You may not remember it, but I never forced myself on you. And I would never have married you if I doubted for a second that you didn't return my feelings."

Seeing her shying back, Fugaku grasped her wrist. "I love you, Mikoto."

He was certain he always would love her. But Fugaku wasn't so sure about her anymore... Mikoto was too uncertain. Too disconnected from himself, Fugaku doubted she even knew what being loved by him felt like anymore. And if she couldn't remember it, how could he force his feelings onto her? Had he been projecting his feelings onto a shell all along? The empty cast of the woman he loved?

But Fugaku had _seen_ it. His Mikoto was still there. She just needed to find herself again and no amount of hiding by herself would help her attain that.

"I know." Her voice wavered and she swallowed over the dryness of her throat. She could feel his grip on her, sense the way her skin heated within his grasp. Something fluttered in her stomach and she didn't like it. She didn't want to feel this way... "That is why I say I _need_ time. I need a chance to become used to this..."

"By sheltering yourself away from me? Seriously, Mikoto?" His eyes flashed and _now_ she recoiled. Her eyes closed and he felt hurt flood him. He was frightening her again. He was being too forceful, but damn if it didn't pain him seeing her shut herself off like this.

Her hand was yanked forward and Mikoto gasped as her palm came in contact with warm skin. The slightly rough texture sent electricity down her body. Burning, red eyes stared back at her. Fugaku's face vulnerable and Mikoto was certain he did not even know he was showing it. His throat constricted and than moved in a wave, his voice raw as he pleaded:

"Don't hide from me, Mikoto. Please. I won't push you. I won't make you do anything you don't wish to. But please, let me in. I want to help you."

She couldn't breathe.

"I miss you, Mikoto."

The cups clattered and a soft dripping filled the silence as tea trickled onto the tatami floor. His scent flooded her, but nothing could overpower the sensation of his warm, chapped lips against hers. Her captive wrist tingled. Her free hand almost slipping where it propped her up on the wet, wooden surface. She knew her dress would be ruined. Just like she knew why she was concentrating on everything else _but_ the close proximity they kept to each other.

Their foreheads locked together when she finally managed to pull away, her breath brushing over his face in soft bursts. It had been a mere press of lips, chaste enough it put her old life to shame, yet it felt like she had surrendered something precious. She had handed over the upper hand.

And she hated herself for it.

But those hypnotizing red eyes. The crimson of them burned straight through her and she felt something hiss in response. Spreading, reaching out strong fingers before the surge hit. Fugaku immediately let go, falling backwards as she set a good five feet between them. Her eyes locked onto him.

"Mikoto..?"

She gathered herself, selfconsciously smoothing out her dress.

"I'm glad we were able to reach an understanding. Now, if you will excuse me, Fugaku-sama." She heard him suck a breath when she used his given name instead of the formal address she had used with him thus far. Mikoto reminded herself to stand tall, she would not be found on the losing side. She needed to regain ground once more so she collected herself. "I'm afraid this mess calls for a change and I'd rather not do it in front of you."

He was too shocked to respond, walking almost on autopilot as he left the room. Hearing the tell-tale click of the lock behind him. Fugaku leaned against the door. His hand rising to hover before his eyes where he spied small, clear blisters forming quickly on the callused skin of his palm.

Fugaku thought he had simply imagined it in the heat of the moment. The way he felt pulled to her in the aftermath of the kiss certainly would have warranted a bit of hotblooded confusion. But as he saw the skin turn an angry red, almost seared, he hardly believed his own eyes. After all, Fugaku knew his wife's main chakra natures and lightning was not one of them. Yet there was not doubt of the charge that had rippled along her skin in that instant.

He stared in disbelief at his shocked skin, still unable to fathom the change.

"What has happened to you, Mikoto?"

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	5. Chapter 5

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.**

 **A/N** Right! More Itachi and more revelations. Mikoto realizes she might actually have a bigger part in the big picture than she once thought. That, and perhaps she finally sees her calling? For it's clear some things need to change. Can she do it herself? What do _you_ think needs to be changed? I'm always open for ideas. See you next chapter! – DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 **Chapter 5**

 **.oOo.**

* * *

For the first time in a while he made his way back from the academy with a bounce in his step. Itachi, foregoing his usual routine bounded into the Uchiha District, even greeting a few of the curious Uchiha on his way before he stopped short before a familiar house.

It was smaller than theirs, but none the less impressive. The Clan insignia of a two colored uchiwa marked the walled area that surrounded the main family's properties. But the lush, very unbridled garden spoke of its owners' curious nature, strong love for freedom and uncensored mouths. They gardened as they wished, never ones to adhere to the strict style most of the main family members kept to. A good reflection of their character, something his aunt often liked to remind her family off when they were being particularly hard to handle.

Itachi smiled. The haphazardly discarded shoes that littered the entranceway confirmed his suspicions and he rushed inside, careless of other people's opinions on what could be percieved as undignified behavior.

"Shisui!"

A dark-haired boy bearing semi-short, loosely curling hair looked up from the kitchen table he was seated by. His forehead-protector, covered in dust with splashes of mud on the dark fabric, lay on the table, allowing his bangs to fall into his eyes. Questioning obsidian eyes peered up at Itachi from underneath, dark noodles caught between chop-sticks pausing halfway on their road to his waiting mouth. "Itachi?"

Itachi crossed the distance easily and soon smiled down at the older Uchiha. A wide one he never showed around others. The nine-year-old was as always welcoming of his visits. Even if the boy was rarely in the village these days, but out with his genin team on long training trips or the odd mission outside Konoha walls. Of course, Shisui had become even more busy since he gained his chuunin rank, something that rankled Itachi more and more since he himself was stuck at the academy.

"You just came back?" Itachi asked curiously as he sat down beside him. His shoulders still heaving from the dead run he made getting here.

"Ah."

He knew it. Itachi _knew_ he had sensed Shisui's chakra and he had subsequently spent the last half hour of class tracking it. Following the dot through the village and into their part of the district. An impressive feat, considering how the Academy was on the opposite side of Konoha. But Itachi was familarized enough with his cousin's chakra by now to be able to track it in his sleep.

It was so different from the regular fiery Uchiha signatures. For although he knew Shisui to be strong with fire techniques, Shisui also favored wind and lightning release, the former more than the latter. Something that had always fascinated Itachi for the young heir a strong affinity for wind was rare in the Uchiha clan, where most tended to be alligned towards fire as their main chakra nature. Of course, the fact that Shisui often helped him train probably helped Itachi memorize the other's chakra signature better. So close by, Itachi could slowly learn to track it while it was still unmolded in Shisui's coils as he prepared for a jutsu, before the potent, released chakra would prod at him at a distance before it cancelled out.

Steps neared them. "Shisui, you better- Oh, Itachi-kun!"

"Hello, Oba-san."

The middle-aged woman blinked before smiling. "So polite! You aught to take after him, Shisui. At least Itachi knows his manners."

"Eh, Itachi is such a- ite!" He rubbed the back of his head, a fearsome scowl directed at his mother.

"Itachi-san is no such thing. And you know better than to say such things in this house."

"Yes, yes." Shisui rolled his eyes. "What do you want, pipsqueak?"

Itachi straightened. "Oh, I just wanted to ask if you wished to come see my brother? You know I have one now, right? He came last month."

"You?" Shisui gave him a suspicious look. "A little brother? What has the world come to, eh? But I guess Mikoto-san wouldn't be able to keep it inside forever."

He finished his bowl in a long slurp, practically inhaling the last bits of food before wiping his mouth and snatching a fruit on his way out. Itachi obligingly followed him. Observing the slight strut in his step. The mission must have gone well then. One could usually tell just by reading the change in Shisui's body language. The older boy grinned as he spun around, tossing the citrus fruit from one hand to the other without even looking, before he stepped into his black ninja sandals. Yes, Shisui was definitely pleased with himself.

"Shisui?!"

Itachi stopped, barely managing to dodge the flying pack of something heavy as it rushed through the air at Shisui. The Uchiha catched it mid-flight. Barely keeping the top from opening by balancing the fruit on top. His aunt crossed her arms over her chest as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Bring that to Fugaku, will you? Mikoto looked a bit pale when I last saw her. Best to remind him to take care of his wife properly, that-idiot-brother-of-mine."

Itachi wasn't sure he was meant to hear that last bit, so he made it seem like he hadn't. Both children nodded in response, though. Too afraid to protest against the word of the Clan Head's elder sister. Something Shisui had, from early on in their friendship, insisted was useless with his mother. Sending the woman a last wary glance as she sent them off, Itachi just knew Shisui would be complaining of her domineering ways all the way home.

* * *

The house felt so empty without Kushina's bubbly laughter close by and even though the redhead assured her she would visit often, Mikoto couldn't help but feel a bit abandoned.

It was strange, that she would find comfort in being close to something most shinobi would class as dangerous. The Red Habanero and current Kyuubi container would usually be considered a greater threat than staying in her home alone. The short temper and potent chakra combination being one of the foremost reasons for the reserved nature Konoha's inhabitants upheld around Kushina. But for Mikoto, not having her friend and the only person she could feel safe around near her was disconcerting.

Sasuke gurgled and she concentrated on what she was doing – wrestling those little limbs into the miniature clothing made for him. A ridiculously difficult task, considering.

"You enjoy fighting me, don't you?" She mused, watching those now rounding cheeks puff out as the baby flailed his arms at her.

A polite knock sounded against her door. "Kaa-san?"

She lifted Sasuke into her arms, propping him up on one hip as she went for the door, pushing it open. "What is it, Itachi-"

"Hello, Mikoto-san." The boy behind Itachi gave her a grin. Bright and so not Uchiha-like. But she couldn't place him and she knew she should be able to. Anyone close to Itachi should have been noteworthy enough for her to remember.

She gave a hesitant smile. "Hello."

Itachi's large eyes peered up at her, filled with suppressed excitement. "I wanted to show Sasuke to Shisui. Can I?"

She blinked. "Of course." She paused, suddenly not knowing how to act. "Come on over. Sit down, Itachi-chan."

Itachi did as he was told, but still flushed a bit as he allowed his mother to settle his arms appropriately around Sasuke. Shisui dropped down on the bed beside him, the position lessened their height difference somewhat and allowed the two to crowd around the baby without actually risking to drop him on his head. Sasuke's big eyes bulged further being so close to Itachi and the fascinating Uchiha. Mikoto could practically see him itch to sink his tiny fingers into Shisui's curly hair. A texture Mikoto knew for a fact the baby had had no contact with as of yet.

Itachi, ever the proper one and quickly growing into his role of big brother, gave the baby a stern look of warning as he squirmed a bit in Itachi's lap, before he said softly: "Sasuke, meet Uchiha Shisui. My best friend."

Something twisted inside her and Mikoto couldn't help the sad smile reaching her lips. Shisui, however, took it all in stride. Eyes fully focused on the little one before him.

"Nice to meet you, Chibi." Sasuke grasped his extended fingers, dragging them without shame towards his mouth. Shisui smiled. "Any brother of Itachi's is my brother as well. So you better remember it."

"You can't say that," protested Itachi. "He's still _my_ little brother. But you can be the spare. I know he'll need plenty of eyes on him growing up."

"Oh, so I'm good enough for a babysitter, but not actual family, eh? You little-!" Shisui raised a playfully clenched fist.

The comic display was interrupted by soft laughter and Itachi froze, turning his face up to watch as Mikoto tried to smother her laughter. Shisui sent him a curious look but didn't hesitate to accept the light mood.

When she finally managed to catch her breath, Mikoto grinned down at the two. "I think you'll both find yourself in enough trouble on your own. Don't add Sasuke into the mix. It might become too much for the both of you."

"Nothing is too hard for a ninja, Mikoto-san!" Shisui turned sheepish. Rose sprinkling over his cheeks. The Clan head's wife rarely smiled so genuinly, but when she did, it was pretty and actually took him off guard for a moment. Nor could Shisui remember when he last heard her laugh so freely.

"Oh, so you're going to become so fast you can watch over both Itachi _and_ Sasuke?"

"Of course, I will!" He hadn't been training on improving his speed for nothing, and his squad leader already said he had the potential to become fast. _Real_ fast. "I'll leave my opponents in the dust, so no one will be fast enough to touch them!"

"Lightningstrike Shisui!" Itachi cheered in awe, only to receive a knock on his head for his input.

"Idiot. That is so lame, Itachi. A good name needs to have a ring to it, like.. The Yellow Flash!" Shisui pondered for a moment, before he remembered his current point of focus in training. "Something like _Shunshin no Shisui._ I'll flicker through the masses and they'll never know what hit them!"

Sasuke seemed confused by their sudden zeal and Mikoto could only watch while she stifled another peal of bubbling laughter as the pair bickered back and forth. Their eyes growing more and more dreamy as they went. It seems in some parts Itachi still remained a child and Mikoto enjoyed seeing the childish exhuberance drawn out by the elder boy. Her face fell a bit, eyes falling on the older of the pair and lingering there as she thought of how right they were in their guesses. She could see it, even in their childlike forms. These two would undoubtly change the course of the Uchiha Clan. They had the potential to become the strongest of the strong.

Mikoto only hoped they would realize it before the end that not all strived to reach the same goal nor played as fairly as they did. Especially not those who could win from causing another's suffering.

 _Such happy boys._

Mikoto would hate to see the end of it.

* * *

The brush ran through her hair without complaint. Something she could appreciate this time around. She didn't need to bother with angry knots, or split ends. Her flowing indigo strands were like most Uchiha's; straight and smooth. Almost like silk threads, only stronger.

She braided the damp strands down her back, knowing that the temporary formation would leave it filled with waves tomorrow. It was natural, and gave Mikoto a bit more reassurance that it was not just a skin, but something she lived in. Something she had control over. Even if it was only her appearance.

Soft sounds came from the crib and she listened to Sasuke as he shifted in his sleep. The boy was out like a light, yet he still seemed to find some way to make a fuss.

She was enjoying the warm summer night air when she sensed it. A soft hum behind the shoji door. She knew it, like she had started to subconsciouly identify Itachi's and Shisui's chakra. Subtle, controlled and very Uchiha-like. Not at all as deep and lively as Kushina's. That woman's particular flavor she could tell from miles away when she was even the slightest heated up in the way of chakra. No, this one was as tranquil as a still lake, yet churned deep in under if she cared to probe at it. _Warm_ , like the signature jutsu's they were so proud of.

Mikoto pulled her robe closer, covering more skin as she stood back on her feet. Her eyes not leaving the door. "I know you're there."

She had left it unlocked. Knew she shouldn't, but the routine was starting to show itself and she quickly tired of having to open it each night. It was always at the precise, same time too. A sense of regularity meant to reassure her.

Slight shuffling and then the shoji door slid open. Familiar dark eyes meeting hers.

"Good evening."

"Right..." She watched him walk over silently, as shinobi tended to do. But the image itself was ruined as she saw he was once again dressed in his thin, nightly robe, stormcloud grey sleeping pants peeking out from under the stretch of dark fabric.

Fugaku stopped by the crib, eyes landing on the sleeping child within.

It was the same routine as every other day. She would prepare for the night, putting Sasuke to sleep and then Fugaku would stop by as sure as nightfall. At first, he hadn't dared step foot inside her room. Choosing instead to stand in the doorway, satisfied by just seeing that both of them were alright. Soon, however, he became more bold. He always stated his wish to see Sasuke. For Fugaku was busy most of the day and the only time he had enough peace and time for visits was just before bedtime and by then Sasuke would already be sound asleep.

Kushina said it must be his way of trying to take part. To make his impression on Sasuke, who had seen less and less of him lately while he tended to clan matters. But Mikoto suspected there was another goal behind the visits. She, for one, had _sensed_ it.

She frowned as Fugaku reached a hand down to gently brush Sasuke's cheek. The baby moving into the touch.

"I heard you went to the market today."

"We did." Mikoto moved closer to the open shoji behind her, the wood of the porch walkway creaked beneath her weight as she went to take a long glance of _her_ garden. A whiff of jasmine scented air drifted past her. The wooden planks were pleasurably cool against her feet – Soothing. Helpful, when she couldn't seem but get warmer by the minute.

"That is good. But do be careful." His voice softened uncharacteristically, causing her to turn her head slightly. "There are illnesses about. Sasuke, he is still so small. We should be wary of moving him around larger crowds for now."

She raised an eyebrow. "We visited the Uchiha market. I doubt there are any serious diseases being spread inside clan walls." Not any contagious ones, at least. She had asked the clan healer earlier that week since she was worried for Sasuke. For newborns, not to mention premature babies, were more likely to catch an infection than adults. She hadn't really grasped what Itachi's strange illness represented, but she was certain it was caused by the Sharingan. A power that strong had to have its drawbacks. The whole thing had 'Uchiha-clan-cover-up' stamped all over it, but she'd bet Fugaku to avoid the topic even if she brought it up to discussion with him. The clan was ridiculously close-guarded when it came to clan secrets – or weaknesses in this case. Even from those within the Uchiha Clan.

Mikoto pulled the shoji closed with a sense of finality, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep if she knew it to be open. Such a big safety issue was bound to gnaw at her. It was no longer just her life on the line and clan children were far too coveted for Mikoto to take any unnecessary risks.

Checking one final time that it was sealed properly, she jumped when she turned to find Fugaku standing within arms reach of her.

"Fugaku..." She took a step back. But the man simply raised his hands, a peaceful sign she would recognize no matter where she lived.

"Mikoto." He paused, eyes searching as if trying to sense something she couldn't. When he seemed satisfied with his findings, he clasped her hands in his. The slight contact had her pulse quickening unwillingly, those deep obsidian eyes boring into her. She wished to pull away, but she couldn't. She was frozen beneath that gaze, no matter how much her mind told her to move. To force distance between them again...

"Have dinner with me." Her deep eyes widened, causing his stomach to flop. "Tomorrow. I've cancelled my last meeting and the Uchiha Military Police won't need me until the beginning of next week..." He was pulling at straws, trying to find something to get her to agree to his request. But he found himself slipping. His words became less elegant, not at all as gentleman-like as he imagined them to be. Damn. _His Mikoto_ would have caved just from his sincere eyes alone, but now... This became so much harder...

Somehow, her breath seemed a bit quicker. The heat that once concentrated along her neck now rising up to her face. This was ridiculous. They were married, for heaven's sake! And here she was, acting like a blushing girl being asked out on a date.

"Fine."

His head snapped up from watching the floorboards, dark eyes scanning her face, disbeliving.

"I said _fine._ I'll come." She saw him relax, the tension in his shoulders dropping and constant frown lines on his face softening, which made him seem years younger. Her teeth released her captive lower lip. She hated to brake it on him. "You know I'll have to bring Sasuke.. And we should probably invite Itachi as well. He barely sees you enough as it is."

She dared him to protest. She was determined and if she couldn't have her boys with her there was no deal. But it seems this time there was no need for her to pull the demanding routine. For the Uchiha leader only smiled. A real one for once and never did Mikoto imagine seeing such a bright smile on his usually stern features. It was... shocking.

His voice was suprisingly warm when he finally spoke:

"That's fine. We're family."

* * *

Itachi had been to family dinners before. They used to eat together every night at six unless his father was out on village business. It was the only time the whole family would be gathered together, three bodies around a small table as they enjoyed the remains of the day together. Respectful and proper, they usually ate while sharing snippets of their day. Mostly, it was his father enquiring about his training or what Itachi did at the academy. His mother sitting in the background, serving rice or filling his father's glass.

That had been _before_ Sasuke.

Now, it was with a wary yet bubbly energy in him that Itachi seated himself in his regular seat around the square table. A small cot, no bigger than a basket, was situated beside him. His mother sat next to it and opposite his father on Itachi's right. The table sat between them with various foods. Many Itachi did not know prior to this night his mother could make, for Itachi had never eaten them before.

"Eat up, Itachi." She said, setting a plate before him. His father was second and Itachi instinctively waited for the man to start eating. His mother's own plate remained suspiciously bare. Only a small amount of food sat on it, many of her favorite dishes left out. A surprising heap of pickled ginger decorating one corner of it. Mikoto didn't make a fuss about it, though, but instead busied herself with adjusting Sasuke, who was resting comfortably on plush materials stuffed into the small nest, one hand already hanging onto a chunk of wavy, indigo hair.

Itachi repeated his father's small, mumbled blessing for the food, before starting to pick on his chicken. It soon became clear, however, that his father was much less interested in the food on his plate and more focused on Mikoto.

Fugaku's gaze never left her face as he watched her gently admonish Sasuke for yanking a bit too harshly on her hair. Itachi didn't understand _why_ his father was observing her so intently, as he was sure they saw each other as much as he did. But Shisui always said adults were weird about the most ridiculous things and Itachi suspected this was one of _those_. The things fathers felt for mothers that drove them to act unpredictibly and steal small, intimate touches from each other when they thought nobody was watching.

Itachi gathered the feeling was much like the feelings Itachi himself once felt during a short period of his life when he was convinced he would one day marry his mother. Even if he very well _knew_ that she was already very much _married_ to his father. Itachi's small strokes of jealousy had been harmless, however, and his mother would often reward his efforts of fighting for her favor with a tiny kiss or two just to keep him from feeling too blue when he was feeling particularly enamored.

Thankfully, Shisui had set Itachi's mind straight for him, after gathering months of amusement in memories at Itachi's expense. An embarrassment Itachi still had to sometimes suffer teasing for. But his first crush had thus successfully bloomed and died at the tender age of four and Itachi believed it had helped him immensely to understand more difficult parts of human psychology.

So when his father's stare didn't lessen in strength over the full course of the meal, Itachi decided something needed to be done. Itachi never knew his mother to be clueless, but he guessed everyone had their moments.

"Kaa-san?" Mikoto looked up, her face still bearing a small smile from playing with Sasuke. "I think Tou-san needs a kiss."

It seemed innocent enough. Itachi himself got them all the time and they usually made him feel very good. In a warm, fuzzy kind of way. But when Mikoto's face burned red with her cheeks aflame and his father's throat seemed to have gained a stubborn cough, Itachi realized that perhaps it wasn't _that_ simple. His curious eyes glided from one to the other, trying to understand the trigger for this curious behavior.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Itachi-"

"Go to your room, Itachi." The boy blinked, but followed orders none the less. He had finished eating already, so the loss was not that big. He did glance back once before he left, though, and it made a headache the size of the Hokage mountain start inside Fugaku's scull. Itachi was too observant for his own good sometimes.

Fugaku smoothed over his jaw, trying not to look at the cleary blushing Mikoto. Rose always had been a nice color on her otherwise pale complexion. It reminded him of times when he would make it spread further, not just her cheeks but down her neck and out to the tips of her ears. She would always be so embarrassed when he touched her, but soon enough become pliant-

 _No_.

Following that trail of thought would only make this dinner even more of a failure. For although he enjoyed sharing a dinner together like family again. Some part of Fugaku still missed the close connection they used to share. The hidden glances even six years of marriage couldn't faze out.

"That was awkward," Mikoto's steady voice eachoed and he felt himself bubble with a sigh.

"Yes. But he was spot on, as usual." Fugaku gave a half-hearted laugh. Somehow it felt like he mocked himself. Which would have been suitable in this case, considering how a five-year-old had managed to read him well enough to know what he was thinking. He dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes perhaps lingering a bit longer than necessary on those petal-soft lips. His last interaction with them still strong on his mind.

He hesitated before saying, resignation permeating his frame: "You must allow me this much, Mikoto. I know I may not touch you, but at least allow me to gaze upon you. That is enough for me."

"And am I to stand being looked at with such... _desire_?" Mikoto knew this man was square in his ways, but surely even he could see how foolish it was to pretend? Lies could only hide the shape of it, but she could feel it. Sense it in his burning gaze. The way Fugaku wished there was _more_ between them. More than Mikoto could offer him at the moment.

"I thought we could be friends. I could start with that much.." Mikoto hesitated. "But if it is too hard for you-"

"I'll take it!" She fell short of words as his intense gaze set on her. Once again, his eyes spinned black and red. Those cursed eyes of the clan seemed to draw her in more and more the longer she met them full on. Feeling a sudden need for stability, Fugaku started calmly again: "I'll even take the worst kind of offer you have to give me, as long as you'll see the possibility. Tell me, Mikoto. Will you give this – _us_ – a chance?"

Her eyes fell quiet. Mikoto's face returning to its guarded features for a moment as she contemplated it. Could she risk it? Could she risk herself actually becoming bound, in more sense than one, to this Clan? To this man?

Thoughts of Itachi slaughtering his kin brushed her mind's front. Sasuke, so young and vulnerable, being left all alone in a world where everyone sought to exploit him and his potential power. Itachi, the boy who wanted nothing more than peace, being dragged down a dark path of hate and inevitable bloodshed. It wasn't something she wished for either of them. She'd seen it happen before, closer to her than she would have liked, and Mikoto knew that if she truly wished to change things she would have to start from the source of the rot. At the heart were all these cruel fates combined.

But to do that, she would need to become stronger.

Could Fugaku offer her that?

She scanned his face. One so filled with promise, the buildings of a great leader if only he was shown the right path. For even if he wasn't the strongest, wasn't the wisest there was to be had. Fugaku had _something_ few real leaders had.

A heart.

Mikoto closed her eyes, feeling for the chakra signature before her. It was loud and nervous. A stark contrast to his normally composed one. But it was _true_.

"I'll take those words." Fugaku released a breath, but her deep eyes soon had him faltering again. They bore into him, and there was no doubt in him that she meant every word of what she said. "But if I find the slightest sign of you upending our deal, I'll make you regret them."

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	6. Chapter 6

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.**

 **A/N:** Here's another chapter! More Itachi and Kushina. Tell me if things start to get too confusing, alright? Feel free to comment! Yours, DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 **Chapter 6**

 **.oOo.**

* * *

The following weeks Mikoto found herself looting her chests and cupboards for her old stuff. Her restless time during Sasuke's bouts of napping was spent going through old books, chakra theory and clan scrolls she had collected over the years. As she read, most of it came to life again from her vague memory. She had read this before. She knew this, she realized as she slowly consumed information, cover to cover, stumbling through old formations of kata she had once replicated like fluid water when she trained.

How could she ever forget something as different as this? Admittedly, her introduction into this skin and Mikoto's apparent lack of activity these last six years must have had something to do with it. Yet, all the information was in _there_ , just stuffed somewhere out of her direct reach. Her brain had been wired, Mikoto just needed to remember which one she had to pull on. The thought was tantalizing and frustrating, almost like a candy being dangled right before her eyes. But the amount of concentration it took to try and recall everything simply wasn't worth the headache it would give her for trying in the first place.

Thankfully, her knowledge of how things worked had a solid base not only from what she remembered from her previous life, but from what the Mikoto before her had instilled in muscle memory, which aided her in her goal to revive the nimble movements of handseals, helping her relax muscles and tighten others while trying to relearn kata formations so she wouldn't trip just from shifting her weight ways she never figured to be useful before.

Learning became... managable.

Which, if she was to trust her previously construed theory, should have made the simple chakra exercise she had taken to performing as she sat beside Sasuke's crib much, _much_ easier.

Still, moving the leaf around her palm had become considerably harder than before. Mikoto suspected it had a lot to do with the constant jitter beneath her skin. The itching never failed to rush back with a vengeance whenever she tried to do anything more than make the damn leaf stick.

She sighed. Moving on from sticking the leaf to her forehead and then to her palm had been a great leap for her. But she was not ignorant enough to not realize that she should be able to move the damn thing without much trouble. Mikoto was aware chakra control was supposed to be hard for beginners unfamiliar with chakra manipulation, but at this point it was like her chakra was unwilling to work with her at all!

Slumping against the wall, she turned a lazy eye over at the book spread open beside her. The human chakra network was portrayed with great detail on the open page, marking out each single coil in a network of blue. Hyuuga work, most probably. She snickered at the thought of her owning books made by the Uchiha Clan's greatest opposition. Surely Fugaku would have a fit, if he knew.

Still, it was useful information. For she now knew why the itching was based at certain points. They were coils or _tenketsu_. Vital crosspoints for chakra to be directed and released from. Once she realized this, it did not take her long to conclude that something was seriously screwing with her chakra distrubution. Call her suspicous, but Mikoto had a feeling the lively, humming energy beneath her skin had something to do with it.

Usually, chakra was based on the composition of the individual's spiritual and physical energy. The physical part stored by the cells in the body was used up first, often leading to the term 'chakra exhaustion' when the reserves were emptied in a particularly demanding fight or during extensive training with a new technique. It was the brawn behind the jutsu. And also the easiest to regain with sufficient recovery time.

In comparison, the amount of spiritual chakra the individual contained was minimal at best. But it was also more potent. That was the reason many difficult techniques, such as those derived from the sharingan, used spiritual chakra together with physical chakra, to balance the outlet of a jutsu that would otherwise be too dangerous to use.

Spiritual chakra was also the first to form at conception and the last energy to leave the body in death.

Which made it logical that it was also the one energy that made the impressions on the body's chakra system and forged the possible nature elements specific to one ninja. These things took time, typically somewhere between six months to a year before settling properly, which was why Mikoto was experiencing a strong sense of dawning horror at the moment.

Being Uchiha, she took a wild guess that fire was her main element. But judging by the amount of water jutsu she had in storage that might actually be her specialization. So.. water _and_ fire. Not really bad. But none of them felt like the chakra she could feel surging beneath her skin. It was too sharp to be water, too unpredictable to be fire. Both water and fire had a sense of steadiness to them. They were unlikely to burst one way first and then suddenly turn in the other direction. Which led her to the reason for her current horrified state.

If it wasn't water or fire, it could only be lightning.

It was really logical, if one thought about it calmly. Sasuke was bound to have got his element from one of his parents and Fugaku was fire with a steady earth release as his loyal second alternative. A shinobi could learn more elements than one's main release form but it took time and grueling effort, which meant that only the more experienced and skilled ninja could use techniques of more than one chakra nature. More developed chakra control made it easier to transform chakra into an element not one's own and thus enabled use of the other chakra elements...

Mikoto slapped her palm over her face. The leaf quickly falling to drift through the air once she lost focus. The buzz that still fizzled under her skin made her inner sense of failure even stronger.

She was _lightning_ natured. Which meant that somehow, during her screw up of a death, her spiritual chakra had irreversibly infused into Mikoto. By dominating her balance of spiritual energy she changed Mikoto's chakra nature, which therefor left her with completely useless coils that now had lightning trying to sift through them when they were clearly made for a whole other type of chakra.

 _Fuck my life._

Mikoto was not much for swearing, but hell if this didn't seem like a good time to do so. She glared at the baby still napping in his crib. His soft breaths filled the air and she felt time slip through her fingers. For this was no minor set back. But a serious 'I'll-probably-die-again' freaking mountain to climb if she was to be ready in time before shit started to happen.

Which was in... give or take a little more than a month's time.

She reached out a hand to Sasuke, slipping her finger into his hold and felt him tighten it reflexively.

"The things I do for you..." she whispered. Once more steeling herself for the life she couldn't stop from happening, for she was too weak to do something about it.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"I don't know why I let you drag my ass over here, seeing if all I am to see is your sweaty self you should have at least provided some snacks to smooth over the horror of watching you train in those unflattering pants."

Mikoto sent her a glare and Kushina grinned in response, continuing to watch the mangled version of what was once fluid kata. She hated having to say this but Mikoto had seriously lost her touch.

"Hey!"

"Oops! Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out loud." Kushina rubbed her stomach, laughing nervously as the typical Uchiha eye-daggers were shot her way. Still, she enjoyed the company. For it gave her a break from being around Minato. Who, as of late, had become somewhat of a prick, insisting on doing everything for her even when she was perfectly capable of doing so herself. So what if she was super pregnant? She was no invalid. A bit of 'roundness' was not about to stop an Uzumaki anytime soon!

"Watch your foot!" she called cheerfully, causing the Uchiha mother to loose her poise and wreck her form all together.

Mikoto huffed, leaning on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. "You... aren't.. helping!"

Kushina had the dignity to look ashamed. Even moved over a bit on the blanket she was sitting on for Mikoto to flop down beside her like a spineless fish on land.

The redhead gave the sleeping infant in the baby basket beside her a short, cursory glance before once more focusing on her friend.

"You're in an awful hurry for someone who didn't even care to keep up a basic conditioning training routine for the last six years. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Mikoto panted but didn't answer her, which only made Kushina even more curious. It was in her blood after all. To stick her nose were it didn't belong, especially when in concerned her friend's life.

"It's Fugaku, isn't it? He's finally approached you!"

Obsidian eyes went wide. "What?! No!" Mikoto couldn't believe where that conclusion came from!

"What, it's not _that_ strange. You've just had a baby and we're not exactly twenty anymore. I know getting naked before someone can be more than a bit nervwrecking and in your case it's probably double the pressure, what with your lack of memory and all that."

Mikoto clenched her teeth. "I am _not_ having sex with Fugaku!"

"No? Shame, for I really think you should." She wiggled her eyebrows. "It would be good for the both of you! I think the bonding and feelings such an event cement might even break this crazy tension between you two. Always works for us. Minato especially likes-"

"I do not need to hear this!" Mikoto pushed on her side, causing Kushina to giggle. When the impromptu tickle war was over they both gasped for air. Their eyes set on the sky as they lay on their backs.

"Kushina?" The redhead didn't turn towards her but Mikoto knew she was listening. "Do you ever feel too weak? Like you need to be strong, to protect those close to you?"

Kushina frowned, her blue eyes grasping at the flimsy bits of cloud that danced across the late summer sky. So that was what bothered her. Kushina gauged it was not wholly unmotivated. Mikoto's life had changed, her family had grown once again as did her responsibilities. The redhead rubbed a hand over her stomach, thinking of the life that lingered there. That would change her and Minato's world forever. She could understand Mikoto's worry.

"All the time."

Mikoto turned her head sideways, taking in the crimson of her hair. Her features serene even as she discussed something so important. "How do you handle it?"

Perhaps this miracle woman had the solution. Kushina had been through more than most and Mikoto trusted in her decisions. _Had_ , actually, ever since they were on their genin team together. She always felt confident when around the redhead. For she knew they would always watch each other's backs without either having to be asked to...

Kushina smiled, even though it was more serious than her normal grin. "I get stronger."

Mikoto's eyes widened a step further. Kushina, however, did not comment on the surprise taking over her friend's face, instead she turned to give Mikoto the warmest smile Mikoto had seen yet.

"And if that's not enough I'll work hard enough to make up for my lack in strength. For sometimes willpower is much more effective than raw strength. And I believe as long as I have a will for it my precious people will always be safe, dattebane."

Unhesitant. Unbending... Determined beyond words. This Kushina, lying just a handful of centimeters from her, would walk up to a tailed beast, unwavering beneath its chilling gaze and never falter. For what she believed in was what mattered. Her conviction was her law. Her word a promise that could not be shaken.

What a strong woman...

. . .

 _If only I could be like you._

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Air rushed around him as he twisted, forcing his body to contort through the air. Bent arms snapped open, metal whizzing from his fingers before he allowed his weight to drag him down. His sandaled feet finally hitting soft dirt.

He panted. Bright, red eyes spinning as they followed the projectiles on their course. He found six of them on target, one stuck to the rough bark of the tree while the others had disappeared somewhere down the line behind the trunk into the bushes.

Six out of ten.

Not a bad number, considering shuriken was a lot harder to direct compared to his regular kunai. But it was still not good enough. Itachi dragged a hand up his face and through his hair, wiping the long strands back along with tiny droplets of sweat from his forehead. His hair was starting to get long and unmanagable. He would have to start to tie it back or ask his mother to cut it for him. Absently, Itachi noted it had been over a year since he had it shortened last.

His hand froze at the back of his nape as his body reflexively stiffened, his short form straightening automatically while his other hand inched itself closer towards his weapon pouch...

"Don't mind me, Itachi-chan."

Mikoto knew better than to move around a startled ninja and simply waited, allowing that red gaze to find her among the trees. Once he recognized her, Itachi deactivated his sharingan, eyes once more a solid black.

"You surprised me, Kaa-san." More than he'd liked to admit, actually. He dropped his hastily drawn defense, relaxing.

Itachi hadn't expected a visitor. Nobody sought him out when training. His father knew better than to disturb him, not that he was free enough to have the time to do so anyway. Only Shisui followed him here at times and that had been months ago. Mostly, Itachi was left to his devices. Something he was thankful for because it allowed him to focus on his training. On improving his skills outside his current academy curriculum.

"Trust me, I didn't mean to." Mikoto stepped up into the clearing, the purple sling around her torso coming into focus against the otherwise green foliage. Itachi blinked. Mikoto scratched at her neck. "Aa, I couldn't find a babysitter..."

She eased herself down near the treeline, a fair distance from the tree he had been using as his target. With practiced hands, she withdrew Sasuke from his cloth prison, setting the baby snuggly between her legs.

Mikoto took a moment to observe the clearing, taking in the slight marks on the tree trunks and stumps. Nicks in the bark left behind by weapons. Her eyes narrowed.

"Nice place you've got here..." Her tone went from happy to one with a bit more of an edge to it. "Though, I find a bit more destruction than I expected."

Itachi flushed, hands going behind his back as if knowing he'd done something wrong. It did not surprise her, but seeing Itachi's silently repenting form didn't improve Mikoto's mood any.

"Itachi." She battled for words for a moment, contemplating the best way to approach this. "I don't know from whom or where you managed to get _those_ , but I always trusted you would have enough courage to tell me about it. Because I dislike thinking of you willingly hiding things from me.."

Itachi's head lowered, unable to meet her gaze.

Mikoto sighed. "Itachi. There's a reason why academy students aren't allowed to carry weapons outside academy grounds before graduation. There, you have someone to look out for you when you mess up. Here.." She motioned towards the empty glade they were in. Mikoto didn't think any further words were necessary to make her point. "I'm not opposed to you learning, Itachi. As long as it is done under proper supervision. I'm sure your father is of a similar opinion."

Mikoto reached for one of the discarded kunai that must have been left lying after the previous barrage. It's sharp edge glinted, even if it was clear it had not been sharpened lately. A small blessing. To think that Itachi had skipped on clearing away his used kunai before going for another spin... It spoke of wrecklessness. One she hadn't thought he had in him. Mikoto didn't even _want_ to imagine what could have happened if the boy had slipped, especially if he made acrobatics like _that_ everytime.

"These are live weapons, Itachi," she said with disappointment. "Not toys."

He flinched.

"I expect you to treat them with as much caution and respect as they deserve." Her eyes became sad as she added, "For if they can take life, be prepared it could be yours. Even friends can turn on you if you're not careful."

Itachi dejectedly stepped towards her, his hands readily handing over what was left in his pouch. It felt bad letting them go. For once Itachi felt like he was coming one step closer towards becoming a real shinobi. Then there would not be too long before he would pass the exams. For he knew proper weapon handling was one of the test subjects used in the practical examination.

But he would not defy his mother. Itachi had promised himself to be better than that.

Warm hands closed around his, drawing his gaze to her face. A lenient smile warmed her eyes. "I'm not forbidding you from using them, for I know that my opinion as your mother will soon be overruled by your drive as a shinobi. I only ask that you handle them wisely. Preferably, when either I, your father or another ninja can keep an eye on you."

Itachi's eyes widend a fraction. "Then..?"

"Pack up the shuriken." She said wryly. "They're dangerous enough without the addition of wind when training with them."

She winked him over, taking the small bundle of metal from his hands after he had cleared the glade once more of sharp objects. "How about we see how good you are with kunai? Did you know they're my favorites?"

Itachi took in the widening smile, the glitter to her eyes. His mother approved? Itachi stared down at the handful of weapons held in his hands, long handles wrapped with protective, non-slip tape. Itachi _did_ like kunai. The ring at the end felt nice and allowed mobility. The sleek yet sturdy blade always flied nicely from his hands without too much effort on his part. It was a perfect weight in his hands, easy to balance.

His eyes narrowed in thought.

He could use them for traps, perhaps even more intricate, complementary attacks. Exposive tags. He'd heard of others using metal wires to redirect and adjust kunai mid flight enabling wild courses even experienced shinobi had trouble anticipating...

It sounded.. cool.

"Ne, show me what you've got!" Mikoto cheered.

It was with a smile on her face that she watched her eldest move, not yet as graceful as he would become one day, but with a fluidity that would have most academy students jealous. Itachi _glowed_. His face bearing a smile of its own as he showed her throw after throw. Sometimes even coming closer to discuss different grip techniques with her, his mouth moving rapidly. An enthusiasm she had rarely seen in the boy.

Mikoto's eyes became distant as she watched the familiar movements made by a smaller body. Sometimes, she saw herself in Itachi's place. Her younger body acting on instict; retracting, swinging her lean arms in sharp arches, fingers tensing momentarily before the release. The heavy thud of metal hitting wood ending each sequence...

"Did you see, Kaa-san!? Did you see it?"

She chuckled. "I saw, I saw. You did well, Itachi!"

He had the basic technique, the stance and determination. If he practiced his aim, his speed. There would be nothing stopping him.

Sasuke squirmed with excitement.

 _Yes, you know it too._

Mikoto surveyed the clearing. One familiar to her in short, blurry mists of memory. This was were Sasuke would follow his brother to. Show off his own kunai skills trying to gain Itachi's attention and approval.

How ironic that his brother would be attempting the same feat with her as his audience. Though, Itachi probably wished for it to be Fugaku here instead. She knew how the minds of small boys worked and about their instinctual drive wishing to impress their fathers. It seemed absent father figures were as common here as it was before her death...

Her eyes darkened at the memory.

Mikoto was here now, but she couldn't fill the shoes of both parents. She would have to get Fugaku to become more active in their lives. Sadly, that meant offering the figurative olive branch to him. Something that was starting to seem more unavoidable by every week that passed. Mikoto had already agreed to friendship, which could count as a first step of sorts. Now, she needed Fugaku to step up to the task of being a proper father and set his priorities straight.

A great feat if she ever managed to pull it off.

She eyed Itachi, his pale cheeks flushed from physical exertion as he tried to show her another of his wild jumps. She clasped his weapon pouch, which had been discarded by her side, as what had once been training quickly descended into pure play, a contest of showing how high he could jump.

Itachi looked more alive under her attention now than Mikoto had ever seen him before.

Perhaps, they could still be saved, after all...

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Kushina stood on the balcony to their small flat. A cool wind blew through her hair and she had to pull her nightrobe closer. The fabric was thin, for she was too warm these days even in her lightest clothes. Something that always perplexed Minato, who was more like a cat himself, always seeking out the warmest spot in their two room apartment.

She sighed.

Her eyes studied the village in silence. Lights shone in some of the windows, but many were dark. As it should be at this time of night. Not that Kushina blamed them for sleeping. It was already past two in the morning and Kushina was having another night of insomnia. Something that had become much, much worse lately.

Thankfully, she found small snippets of sleep during the day – cat naps as Minato liked to call them. More often than not it was while she is visiting her friend in the Uchiha district. Mikoto's presence always calmed her, allowed her wary shinobi senses to relax knowing she was there. It was almost like old times...

Sliding her gaze over towards the dark expance that was the Uchiha district, she saw most of it was shrouded in darkness. Only the occasional flashlights of the guards patrolling the area blinking in the night.

 _How do you stand it, Mikoto?_

Kushina missed the time where she could just barge into her friend's apartment, knowing the woman would always let her in no matter what the circumstances. The two friends spent so much time together when they still worked on the same team, they periodically lived at each others homes, changing apartment when one became too cluttered. Until they had to drag both their lazy asses into cleaning it all up once and for all.

That had been before the boys. Before they found themselves in love with the men that would ultimately tear the best friends apart.

Fugaku had been the first to make himself known, but Kushina had been dragging her secret crush on Minato along for the ride far longer. For reason's she would never tell Mikoto, Kushina kept her crush hidden for an extended amount of time. Rejecting Minato's increasingly aggressive attempts to get her attention and silently mooning over the boy during her nights. But it was fine with her. Kushina wanted to see Mikoto happy. Even if she had to sacrifice her own happiness in the process.

Kushina knew.

She realized early on that there was an ongoing rivalry between Fugaku and Minato, one she never managed to disclose the true nature of or the reason behind it. They were of different age groups, Fugaku surpassing Minato by almost ten years, yet it seemed the higher they both climbed in ranks, the more they hated each other. Or, at least, _hate_ is what Kushina presumed Fugaku felt towards her husband. Minato was more likely just reacting to the vibes emitted by the proud Uchiha head. But he was never one to respond well to badly founded opinions of him. Minato _fought_ the Third Ninja War for other's to recognize him, which made him even more stubborn where Fugaku was concerned. Minato's reputation during the war did him no favors in Fugaku's esteem, she was sure, as Uchiha had always been prone to jealousy..

Their rivalry had never been very hostile in nature, however. But it always managed to make conversations hard when they were in the same room together because of the tension. So, Kushina ignored her feelings for the blond boy of wonder for as long as possible. Stupidly refusing to see how attached she was growing to him, even though on some level she knew she was falling _hard_.

But when Mikoto finally married... It seemed inevitable they would have to part ways.

Fugaku needed her. The Clan _needed_ her. Mikoto was quickly buried under formalities and responsibilities she hadn't been prepared for. Mikoto became _Lady of the Clan_. Forcing her to withdraw from life outside the compound walls and commit to bringing the Uchiha to greatness.

They needed an _heir_.

Kushina rubbed her stomach, eyes becoming distant as she remembered how she had to receive the news second hand through the rumor mill. Her _best friend_ didn't even have the insight to tell her she had become a mother!

No... It was all very clean. Undramatic.

Marriage to the Clan Head. Retiring from active duty and being taken off the village shinobi rosters. Then, suddenly, Mikoto was a mother of a child Kushina had never met. Did not even know existed! Until she forced her way into the clan compound that is...

Kushina smiled, remembering the image of surprise on Mikoto's face as the Red Habanero stormed her way in. It had been _legendary_. Something that had earned her Fugaku's cold glare for years to come. But it had all been worth it.

Seeing Mikoto's tired face light up as Kushina stumbled upon her in the clan gardens. Silk covered arms full of lively Uchiha, the then 15-months-old Itachi giving a toddler's version of a giggle as Kushina crashed through the trees. Her red hair full of leaves and cheeks flushed from her taijutsu stunt with the gateguards and a handful of confused Uchiha.

The memory was one of the warm ones she kept close to her heart. For Kushina treasured her precious people. And she never wanted them to miss out on another precious moment again.

 _Will you come for me, Mikoto?_

It scared her, for more than one reason and rightfully so. Kushina was not used to being helpless. And giving birth was certainly one such moment. It was when everything could go to hell in a split second. It was something she had no knowledge of. No experience to fall back on.

She was going in blind, and she didn't like it.

Warm arms wrapped around her. A tousled blond head falling on her shoulder.

"You're still up?"

Kushina huffed, her face turning until she could catch sight of sky blue eyes. Sleep still clung to them, but she guessed Minato had somehow sensed her unrest. As he tended to do when he was at home.

"I couldn't sleep. Your daughter is restless."

"My _son_ knows better than to disturb his mother's rest," he argued playfully while tightening his arms into a loving embrace.

Her eyebrow arched.

"Oh? How would you know? You're not the one being treated like a punching bag. She's been kicking for hours, with perfect timing too! Just when I'm about to fall asleep..." Her face went red when she saw the growing grin on his face, the ends of her hair moving in annoyance. "How about I kick you next time? Hm? Let's see how fun _you_ think it is?"

Minato chuckled. A deep rumble that Kushina could feel through her back. He shifted, pressing closer and moving his hands to rest on her large stomach. A sharp kick met his palm and Minato pressed a kiss to Kushina's soft jawline before looking down at the bump sternly.

"Oi. Let your mother sleep."

There was another kick, before they stopped alltogether. It left Kushina gaping before she turned wide, accusing eyes on Minato. "Show off," she grumbled.

She pulled out of his grasp, vanishing back through the white, fluttering curtains. Minato took a look at the star studded sky while rubbing the chill off his naked arms, before turning to join his wife.

"So, what did Mikoto say?" He asked carefully, knowing how shifting Kushina's moods can be.

"She hasn't answered yet-!" Came the muffled reply.

Minato frowned, his wary eyes giving the outside view one last surveilling glance before he locked the balcony doors. His hand dragged over the wood with a soft pulse of chakra, activating the security seals in the process. The lines flared up along the walls, creating a intricate net of inky lines and kanji, before they faded back into the smooth surfaces. He pulled the curtains back together, his eyes searching the dark before finding the large lump beneath the covers.

He sighed.

Wandering barefoot across the floor Minato lowered himself down beside her. The bed creaked.

"I'm sure she'll say yes." He whispered into her ear, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close.

"You're sure?"

His blue eyes peered at the red strands that had snuck out from beneath the covers.

"I'm sure. She's your best friend." His voice was warm, reassuring, brushing over her ear softly as she snuggled closer into his chest. He pressed a kiss to her crown. "Of course she'll say yes."

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	7. Chapter 7

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.**

 **A/N:** Gah! I thought it would never end! But I think the chapter did its job, for now things will finally start to progress. Oh, and I'm such a sucker for Itachi in this story. Can't decide where to stop, on the child or adult side of things? I often forget that he's a lot smarter than he should be. I apologize, by the way, for my idealist interpretations of the politics in the Naruto universe. I suck at politics, Naruto or otherwise. Sigh..

Anyway. A bit of action, on all three fronts! Hope you enjoy it! – DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 7

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Most of the clan was still sleeping, the sun barely risen beyond the hokage mountain leaving most of Konoha facing the weak morning light painting the treeline red. It was with a deep sadness that Fugaku stood in the doorway to the darkened room. His key to their room still resting in his hand. Fugaku knew he should have told her he had one, but he hadn't thought it would matter, because he never expected he would have to use it for such a purpose.

Now he stood there. Fully dressed in his uniform, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Sharp, crimson eyes gazing into the dark.

Mikoto must have moved Sasuke to the bed sometime during the night. Fugaku knew for certain that Sasuke was adapt at keeping her up every other night or so, as had become his routine. Sasuke's nightly cries often rang down the hall those nights and Fugaku would lay awake listening to them while hearing Mikoto's soft humming. Her tired attempts to get the child to fall back asleep. Originally, Fugaku had intended to offer to take turns caring for Sasuke during those nights, perhaps lessen her burden just a little. But time showed Mikoto wasn't comfortable enough around him yet to allow him such free access to her room during nights, which was the main reason he hadn't been able to present the offer to her yet...

 _They look so peaceful together,_ he thought silently, warmth spreading at the sight of the two.

Sasuke lay curled up in the middle of the bed, a small barrier of pillows on the other side of him while Mikoto blocked off the other end. Their hands were linked, Sasuke clutching Mikoto's thumb with small fingers.

He allowed his eyes to linger on them for a moment longer before her relocked the door. Silently disappearing down the hall.

Fugaku felt uncomfortable, wearing heavy gear unlike his usual custom. Gone was his dark kimono jacket with its long sleeves. Instead a standard black jounin uniform covered his arms, a dark flak-jacket placed over it, heavy with supplies. Weapon holsters were strapped to his thighs and a filled pouch was chained to his hip by his knife holster. His tanto fastened securely to his back.

The Uchiha that waited for him in the clan courtyard were all dressed in a similar fashion. All bearing heavy weaponry to compliment their skills. Six sets of eyes caught sight of him, a mix of experienced and new. Their faces pale, stiff as the sun finally peaked over the surrounding Uchiha walls.

Fugaku gripped the lowest shoulder. His face proud as he called for the attention of his squad. He could feel the boy tremble beneath his hand. It was understandable. A mission consisting of only Uchiha was unheard of after the founding of the village. But who was he to deny the council's wishes?

He gave a wry smile as he looked over his subordinates for this shotgun mission.

"Everyone prepared?" All heads nodded. He realized they must have received their scrolls by bird summon, what with the master scroll still being in Fugaku's possession. As he took in their appearances he saw that there was a bit hesitation in their frames. They would need his guidance or they would risk the mission. "Good."

Fugaku himself had only been notified of the mission hours earlier. An anbu had awoken him in the middle of the night. A summon to report at the Hokage tower. It was odd for anyone to send a summon directly into his home, even less so in the middle of the night. Thus, Fugaku already knew before he set foot inside the mission room that something was very wrong. When he found the Konoha elders standing at the top of the stair waiting for him, the feeling only cemented further.

His hand brushed over the tattoo were the mission scroll was sealed. It could only be unsealed by fresh blood infused with a sufficient spark of his chakra, but Fugaku had no intention of allowing the mission scroll to see the light of day ever again. He had received strict orders to destroy all evidence of it once he had committed the details to memory, but as Fugaku had stood in his room about to incinerate it with a flicker of chakra, something stopped his hand.

The mission was supposed to be stealthy and quick. Without any fuss. A simple search and destroy mission. Tracking down and neutralizing a threat that supposedly took a whole squad of Konoha's best fighters and most skilled genjutsu users.

His frown deepened, but he controlled it enough to not let on what was going through his mind.

By the lack of reaction from his companions, Fugaku could only surmise that none of their scrolls had contained any finer details. Preventing potential security leaks was standard on any high level mission. But Fugaku still thought the restriction of information on this mission to be excessive. Especially since the council and elders were trying to keep this enough under wraps to give it a level four security rating, one even the Hokage would have trouble gaining access to. Consequently, the mission objective must be more than paranoid suspicion if they were willing to keep it hidden from the yondaime. Though, Fugaku knew many on the village council were still wary of allowing the young hokage full reigns this early into his rule. But even an academy student knew not to withold information from the hokage unless you had a very good reason to do so.

He released Shisui's shoulder, heading over to clear up some minor organizational details with one of the elder jounin stationed on the mission.

It was hard for him. Fugaku would have liked to look after the boy. Or leave Shisui out of this mission entirely, if possible. But few, if any, were as good at genjutsu weaving as his nephew. It was a good sense for any up and coming sharingan-wielder to have. For only well made genjutsu were effective in decieving the mind fully, with or without a famous doujutsu to help their illusions. That his nephew was nine and a mere chuunin, with a meager three years worth of actual experience on his neck, was a minor detail apparently.

Fugaku found himself doubting the wisdom of the village council more and more by each passing minute.

But Fugaku couldn't complain or protest. The team was hand-picked, after all. Very specific for a mission that seemed to be more of a controlled border investigation than anything else.

After all, he doubted the sharingan could help them much in their task this time around.

Fugaku reached up to tie his forehead-protector around his head. Taking extra care in fastening it tight enough so that whatever skirmish they may find themselves in would fail in displacing it. He would need all the clear sight he could get.

Especially if they were chasing ghosts.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

The morning was chilly when she awoke. Her body felt heavy from sleep, yet a chill found its way down her spine. Her eyes immediately fastened on the flapping fabric draped over the stand by the window. A window she was certain had been closed when she went to bed last night.

She stretched, easing up as she kept an eye on the now almost three-months-old baby sleeping soundly beside her. The little bugger.

Mikoto rubbed at her eyes tiredly, wishing that the sun would dip back under the horizon just so she could curl up and sleep in a bit longer. Alas, the star would not bend to her wishes so she forcibly dragged herself up from the warm bed, hissing as her feet hit the floor and tip-toed quietly to the bathroom.

She frowned seeing one of the hairbrushes lying in the sink.

What had she been doing last night?

She shook her head, finishing her morning ablutions before making her way back. Preparing for the day had become a routine and one she kept to firmly. She liked the consistency. To know what to expect. Which was why when Itachi came rushing back to the kitchen where she was starting breakfast with an odd expression on his face, Mikoto knew she should have just stayed in bed.

"Itachi?" she asked, crossing her arms with the spatula still in hand.

"Tou-san wasn't there. I even opened the door and it was empty."

She frowned, nodding before turning to flip the eggs. It was saturday. Surely Fugaku would have said something if he had to be off early?

A knot set in her stomach as she realized that the man probably left the house on an empty stomach. Mikoto was aware that Fugaku could take care of himself and probably had more than a few Uchiha willing to keep him from starving during long his work hours. The uchiha central administration building was always full of eager assistants with too much time on their hands. All enthusiastic to serve the noble head of the clan in any way possible.

Mikoto scoffed at the image her thoughts painted.

 _As if that proud man would accept any other bento but mine._

Fugaku even had the nerve to complain on the single occassion when she forgot to prepare his lunch one morning on his way to work at the Military Police headquarters. What was she, a maid? His personal servant?

Mikoto's eyes darkened before a dust of pink settled on her cheeks.

No. Don't think about it. Such thoughts will only lead to further suffering and madness, something she had enough of as it was.

"Does this mean I can go to Shisui's today?" Itachi looked hopefully at her as she set the eggs, tomatoes and a bowl of plain rice before him.

"No." He visibly drooped before her eyes, obligingly holding out his empty glass as Mikoto went to pour him milk. "No training on saturdays. And yes, I know that's _exactly_ what you boys do whenever you sneak off together."

Mikoto was worried about Itachi running himself into the ground before his time. The child had a dangerous tendency to overestimate his limits. She had never seen such dedication to exercise and training! Itachi may be a prodigy in many fields. But Mikoto was sure a lot of it was hard work and persistance on his part. Sadly, most of his progress was made at the severe cost of his early childhood. Something Mikoto was reluctant to allow, since she considered it very important for any shinobi's sane development to be spared the harsh reality of the ninja world until they were able to understand what they doing and the motivations behind it. They were no longer at war, and as such they shouldn't rush children into early graves. And wouldn't, if Mikoto had anything to say about it!

No. Mikoto would not let Itachi _or_ the clan rush things more than necessary. Even _if_ Itachi was excelling in areas that would be highly appreciated by the uchiha elders. She knew the more influential clan members were not blind, for living in a clan of sharingan-wielders known for shinobi prowess above the common standard they were bound to notice signs of genius and untapped potential early on. Shisui was one who had already been spotted and forcefully put on the fast lane ladder towards success using every accessible clan means. So it would not be strange for their attention to turn to the even younger Itachi, heir to the clan...

Thankfully, until Itachi graduated, the decision making regarding her son's future could only be agreed upon by her and Fugaku. Though Fugaku would have to push it indeed if he wished to get his will through without her consent.

She would make sure of it.

"How about we take a couple of your books, sneak off into a nice corner in the garden and spend the day in the sun? Sasuke likes it when your close, it makes him calmer."

It did. And for that Mikoto was thankful. After Sasuke had passed the initial sleeping stage all newborns went through, Sasuke started to notice things around him. Nearing the three month mark he also noticed he could demand things which had her struggling to keep him happy most of the time. Yet, for some reason, Sasuke always calmed down around his older brother.

Perhaps Sasuke was recognizing their brotherly bond. Perhaps he was just screwing with her head and trying to get back at her for not letting him chew her hair. Frankly, Mikoto had enough to worry about without a fussing child constantly demanding her attention-

Itachi turned thoughtful as if her suggestion needed careful consideration, causing his nose to scrunch up cutely with his lips tucking into a small pout. Mikoto, who's eyes were automatically drawn to the sight, felt her being soften at the pure adorable nature of the boy.

Well. Perhaps Mikoto could stand _a bit_ of fussing. They were _her_ boys after all...

"Can I ask you questions? About the books, I mean?" Itachi enquired, soft-spoken as he raised his eyes at her.

Mikoto hesitated, knowing very well that the books Itachi tended to read was nowhere near the level ordinary boys his age entertained themselves with. Over the weeks, Mikoto had tried to read up as much as possible on the world she now lived in and the history behind it. But there was only so much work she could squeeze in between tending to an infant, keeping the small household running _and_ trying to polish her skills enough so that she might stand a fighting chance once an enemy decided to attack her.

Thankfully, no one was demanding she return to her clan duties yet. Mikoto didn't know how she'd fit _that_ into her already packed schedule...

She released the breath she didn't know she was holding. "Fine. I'll answer if I can. Although, I think it'll be even more stimulating if we discuss the content together. How does that sound?"

Itachi didn't even attempt to get away from her hand as she ruffled his hair. His obsidian eyes content even as he nodded in reply. His fingers grasping his chopsticks while smiling at the rest of them.

Sasuke blew a loud, wet raspberry into the air.

Mikoto felt her lips curl.

 _What a trio..._

* * *

 **.oOo.**

They were far into the afternoon before they even started to pick up on the signs of someone passing through.

There were marks, strange ones that appeared at intervals through the forest. But they were man made. Medium sized, male footprints and broken branches that spoke of carelessness. Either their target was confident enough in his fighting abilities to risk discovery or he was naturally sloppy. And considering _who_ they were chasing after Fugaku leaned towards the former.

A soft tingle down his spine, which caused the small hairs on his neck to rise, had Fugaku halting, chakra-enchanced feet catching onto a branch and locking firmly in place. He raised a hand, the rest of his squad stopping as well.

A leaf drifted towards the ground.

The forest was quiet, _too_ _quiet_.

Fugaku signed for three of them to proceed carefully and investigate, while the rest of them remained behind as back-up.

Shisui had landed closest to his tree and he saw the boy pant as he tried to gather his breath. Undoubtly, the chuunin was unused to their quick pace. Sure, he knew Shisui had been working on his speed from the reports the boy had been making to the clan. But that had been battle scenario. Travelling to and from locations required a different kind of speed as well as endurance, even if it could be enhanced with chakra. Moving efficiently across different terrain took time and training to achieve.

He broke eye contact and looked away once he realized the boy noticed his stare.

It wouldn't do to play favourites. Being a leader was all about completing the mission and getting as many of his subordinates as possible back alive. Especially now since they were of his own clan. He knew all of them personally and had met their families more than once at clan functions.

The loss of such a skilled collection would be hard on the Uchiha. For many of their talented shinobi were past their prime and they still hadn't gained enough of the younger generations to replace them on the field. Thankfully, their responsibility for the military police kept most of their members within Konoha walls and safe from being killed in action. But every now and then, with the remains of the Third Ninja War still cooling down, there were missions such as these. _Designed_ for Uchiha shinobi.

After all, what was the point in having the alligience of such a famous clan if the village could not boast of it to the other shinobi nations?

His eyes snapped to attention at an odd sound, his sharingan burning to life and scanning the trees. There was no sign of any foreign chakra bodies besides those of their own members. But the knowledge did not comfort him. After the war, Fugaku had learnt to be careful of relying on his sharingan too much, as many villages had apt techniques for hiding their signatures.

Fugaku hopped down, making his way stealthily through the trees towards were the sound had originated from. The others took it as a sign to follow, all regrouping into an eagle formation, branching out amongst the trees.

He froze however as he passed into a thicker part of the forest.

The trees here grew closer, forcing the ninja to press nearer to each other, no longer allowing movement as easily between thick branches and obstinate shrubbery. Kazuma, one of the members he had sent ahead, stood as still as a statue a few feet off from them. His young, oval face ghostly in the poor lighting.

Fugaku started forwards, "Kazuma-"

"No-! Stop!" His twist to stop them from coming any closer shifted his weight, causing a sharp _click_ , _click_ , _click_ noise. His face paled, if possible, even further. Sweat gathering at his temples as his head angled itself so that he looked down slowly towards his feet.

Fugaku had his hand stretched out, blocking any others. His mind working furiously as he watched the slow spread of the seal array from the activating mechanism. Chakra was spreading, paper thin tendrils as fast as liquid fire sparking along the forest floor. Each arm heading out towards specific points before thickening.

He swallowed, eyes locking with the final look of fear on Kazuma's face.

"Move," Fugaku ordered to the others, many who couldn't even see what they were stopping for.

"Fugaku-sa – !"

"PULL BACK!"

The spherical inferno of the blast was already expanding outwards when Fugaku forced his chakra awake. He and two reluctant passengers close to him were flung harshly through the air even after they were moved out of the immediate blast radius by the means of a sloppy, mass body-flicker.

They rolled, displaced rock and wood fragments hitting them as they did, until they finally fell to a stop crashing into a thicket of spiny underbrush.

He coughed, certain the force of impact had broken at least one rib. His side burned as he scrambled to right himself. Gashes and sharp chips of wood leaving their marks on him. Releasing the bodies he had grabbed hold of Fugaku realized that one was an unconscious jounin with blood running profusely down one temple, the other a shell-shocked Shisui clinging onto Fugaku's flak-jacket.

Dust particles still danced in the air and Fugaku could smell the sharp scent of smoke. A dark plume of it rising from further down between the trees.

His hand was quickly on his tanto when he sensed chakra signatures closing in on them. His knuckles turning white as he pushed off the ground, forcing himself into a stand. The first thing visible through the wall of smoke and dust was a pair of lazily spinning sharingan and as a rough figure started to outline against the grey Fugaku realized it was the remains of his squad. One supporting the other by draping the limping jounin's arms over his shoulder.

 _That makes four._

Atsurou stopped briefly beside him, his soot covered face grim and sharingan glowing warily. But otherwise unharmed. "Jun didn't make it."

Fugaku nodded, allowing the uchiha to place his load down by the rest of them.

He stared silently at the distant treeline. Knowing exactly what would be waiting them there. He bit his cheek, sharingan spinning as he recalled that last, haunted look in Kazuma's eyes before the nineteen-year-old resigned himself to his fate. Sharingan eyes closing to never open again.

He tasted blood.

 _Two deaths._

They would need to go back for the eyes. To find and _kill_ the bastard who laid those traps. Who _knew_ they were coming for him, practically feeding them a trail of breadcrumbs to follow to precisely where he wanted them.

Fugaku scowled.

He'd been played.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"So the emperor has power to rule because he was born into it. But the hokage has power because he was elected to recieve it?"

Mikoto grimaced, shifting in her seat on the blanket they used to sit on, her bare feet enjoying the last warm rays of sun before Konoha welcomed autumn fully. Explaining this was becoming a lot harder than she initially expected. Why couldn't Itachi have chosen an easier book?

She looked at the curious child beside her. "Well.. That is one way to look at it."

She took the book from his hands, eyes scanning the page they were on for a minute before she tried to summarise her thoughts.

"The emperor earns his seat through birthright. And the power that accompanies that seat is therefore passed down his line. To the first born son, most of the time. He rules because it's his position by birth."

Obsidian eyes focused more intently on the depicted image of a man in lavish robes in a high court. "Like Tou-san is clan head and I'm his heir," he commented as if on afterthought.

"Right. Just.. Being clan head doesn't mean another can't be elected if the first one is.. unfit for the job or lacks any heirs." Mikoto knew she was edging around dangerous territory, but the boy was insistent. "Now, likewise, the position of Hogake is _earned_. Not necessarily through bloodties, but through a recommendation of sorts."

She paused before continuing. "I'm not really that informed of the details, but I think there is a vote among prominent figures of the village to determine if the suggested candidate is to be accepted for the position or not.

"There can be more than one candidate?"

"Well, yes. Though mostly, the previous hokage already have a successor in mind since most have had to step into office during wartime or precisely after ending them." Mikoto skipped the small detail that most kage were killed or died in battle before another kage would take over the responsibility. It seemed a bit too cruel to say such things to a child, even if it was true. To date, the only hokage Mikoto knew to pass on the hat without giving his life in the process was the Sandaime. "Any good shinobi village will tell you that they'd rather not have the kage position left empty for too long, as it is leaves a severe chink in the village defence and tends to make other villages think they're easier to attack."

She hesitated. "That or the hokage knows which candidate is more fitting for the role and will pitch his vote in favor of that candidate in particular."

She was leaving out serious details and hoped it wouldn't make it too confusing for him. But by the look on Itachi's face Mikoto knew she had only managed to confuse him further.

Mikoto sighed.

"What I want to point out is that the power of hokage isn't really something that can be bestowed. Yes, there is a decisional influence that the seat has claim to. But a lot of the big decisions still have to be made through the village council and gain the approval of several offices and authorities before they are considered valid. It is all part of a safety system made to keep _bad_ Hokages from doing _bad_ things."

Itachi's eyes sharpened, a brow arching. "A tyrant, you mean."

 _So much for censoring and trying to make things appropriate for a child's mind..._

"Yes." Mikoto shifted, casting a glance at the sleeping Sasuke before leaning in. "Now, the real power behind a Hokage is actually something the Hokage already has. For it is the candidate's own strengths and skills. The main determinating factor for if a shinobi is suitable for being Hokage at all is if he has the skills needed to serve the village. To be its final protector and advocate. A charismatic and trusted leader that will always stand up for the good of the Village. Able to lead the village and its shinobi to peace."

Okay, so she was adding a bit of her own ideals. But she needed to save Itachi's view of the village. If he was going to be forced to kill his clan one day, Itachi had to believe it was for the better good. Mikoto hated to think of how much the future Itachi must have blamed himself for it, guilt riddling his heart for his actions. It was his family, one did not just kill family without consequenses. It was bound to have mental repercussions for both Itachi and Sasuke. But if by believing he did it for a better world would ease that guilt even a little, Mikoto would gladly feign the ideals of their village so well Itachi might even fall more in love with the dream of it over his own family.

Hopefully, though, it would never come to any massmurdering.

Just thinking of it made her stomach twist. But Mikoto had to secure all her exits. There was simply too much at stake for her to not take precautions. Because deep down inside, Mikoto still believed that some things might be right about the Uchiha Clan and she was unsure if she was enough of a force to make the clan break away from the path of selfdestruction it was heading down.

Itachi's face was full of amazement, and Mikoto knew the reason for it. Her lips moving as she tried to impart the most important part for him to understand.

"Many call the motivation behind a good hokage the Will of Fire." She saw the flash of recognition that sparked in his eyes. They had touched upon this in the academy, then? "But I think it's just a prettier name for wanting to protect your loved ones and the things you believe in. Wishing for peace and prosperity for your people is never wrong. But most of all, a hokage needs the desire to want to change things for the better." She waited, mulling her final words. "To build a greater world for shinobi and the generations that will grow up in it."

Small hands gripped the hard covers, obsidian eyes peering down on the picture of the hokage tower depicted on the page. The center of Konoha's political and military power. The hokage's office almost at the top of the building. If you looked close enough, you could even see the white and red colors of the hokage robes through the tiny window.

Itachi's voice rang clear through the air, almost stopping her heart in the process with its suddenness.

"So if you love your village enough to do all those things for it you become Hokage. To protect. To nurture..." Itachi turned his gaze to Sasuke and then to Mikoto. Something strong forming in his eyes. "Being the Hokage means the village becomes your family. And family is most important of all."

He shut the book, laying it aside even if they were long from finished with it, moving as he made an unusual leap of climbing into his mother's lap. Usually, Itachi would find it too embarrassing, too childish to sit like this. But no one was watching them right now. No one would know.

Itachi wrapped his arms around her torso. His face pressed into her as he listened to her calm breathing. The steady heartbeat.

If becoming hokage meant Itachi would be able to keep all the things close to him safe he would try. He would train and become the strongest and stronger still. But he would never forget. Itachi would always remember why he needed to be stronger, faster and smarter.

It was for Sasuke. For his mother and father. For Shisui. His family and his friends. To stop the wars and the suffering. All the unnecessary deaths.

He smiled, feeling his mother's firm strokes along his back. Her lips humming a light tune even as she stared at the garden.

It was all for _peace_.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"Minato.."

The even-paced chopping noises continued, the man stirring something in the pan before returning to his knifework.

"Minato!"

"Hm?" He stopped, wiping his hands on the dark blue apron before popping his head through the doorway. Almost tripping over himself when he saw the strange look on Kushina's face. He walked into the livingroom, eyes concerned. "What is it, Kushina?"

Pleading blue eyes locked with his.

"I don't know what to do, Minato." She was nearing tears, something that was very unusual for the normally energetic redhead. She fiddled with the fabric of her maternity dress. Looking lost. "I think.. my water broke?"

His eyes left her face to see the clear puddle on the hardwood floor, before widening.

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	8. Chapter 8

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Childbirth, ensuing **Violence.**

 **A/N:** Right, I'm finally off work a couple of days. I feel like the fic is stomping in place a bit, but things will heat up after this! Sorry for the cliffhangers lurking about and overall screaming, there is only so many ways you can describe pain before it gets old. Ugh.. Still, I like to write things how I imagine it would feel and well, let's just say to try and imagine yourself in that situation.. Ouch. Add a twist of Kushina's colorful personality and I think everything becomes a tad more vocal. As usual, tell me what you think, what you like/hate/think could have been made better etc! I try to not make the writing too chunky, since I like writing with flow. But it's a work in progress. Also, the debate is ongoing. Will they live or die? So many options!

Now, enjoy the next chapter. – DR

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 8

 **.oOo.**

* * *

"Ah!"

Mikoto's head swivelled around from the dishes she was washing to find Itachi lifting Sasuke off the cot by the table, a deep frown on his face.

"Itachi?" She dried her hands on the kitchen towel, going over to take Sasuke from his outstretched arms, which left the boy's hands free to wipe at some wet stains on his shorts. Her eyes narrowed, tracking the trail of liquid to the table edge.

"I don't know, Kaa-san. It just started leaking!"

Mikoto shifted Sasuke's weight on her hip, the baby tried rotating his now somewhat stronger neck to be able to see again through the curtain of indigo strands hanging in his face as Mikoto reached for the cup.

Still warm green tea made a small puddle on the table. A long crack down one side of the ceramic.

"What in the world..?"

Thankfully, the tea hadn't had the time to spread down over the table's edge fast enough and thus completely missed falling on the cot Sasuke was resting in. Itachi looked equally concerned, following her stare while quickly puzzling pieces of the event together. Mikoto smiled, realizing what the boy had done.

"Thank you, Itachi. Did you burn yourself?"

The boy blushed, but shook his head and moved the cot, removing the now soiled, wet blanket within even though most of the spilled tea had cooled by now.

"Sasuke was in danger..." he mumbled.

Mikoto stepped over, pulling the flushing boy against her side while ruffling his hair lovingly. "Fast reflexes or not, thank acted even though you both could have been scalded. It's not your fault it cracked, understand? It must have already had a fine chink without us noticing." She said softly, reassuring, as she watched Itachi try to make sense of the accident. Clearly, he had barely thought of the possibily of him being hurt in the process of saving his brother. Itachi was already so protective of Sasuke, she smiled imagining of what a few years worth of development would make of him.

Itachi nodded, one hand moving to adjust one of Sasuke's small socks, which seemed close to slipping off the boy's wriggling toes.

Then something creaked in the hallway and Mikoto gave Itachi a confused look, before heading towards the doorway.

"Mikoto-san?"

Her feet rooted in place and her hold around Sasuke tightened, her body automatically shifting the baby back a bit.

He was standing at ease, but the readily humming chakra she could sense in him said otherwise.

"How did you get inside?" She asked warily, eying the front door. The door was locked, she had done it herself when they got back. Yet there was no sign of anyone forcing their way in...

 _Ninja_ , her mind quickly reminded her.

Fingers twitched by his side as he waited, silent like a watchdog cornering an intruder. His face may be hidden, but Mikoto could see the gleam of a single red eye, tomoes swirling lazily making something snap inside her. Heart hammering inside her chest.

"Kaa-san?"

"Stay back, Itachi!" She hissed anxiously. She already had Sasuke in the line of fire, it would be stupid to add another target. Though, Mikoto concluded it would hardly take this fully fledged shinobi long to go through her. He was controlled to perfection, but she knew it was only because she hadn't done anything yet to force his hand that the intruder remained coild and ready to attack. This was someone _used_ to killing hidden beneath that ghastly mask.

"Mikoto-san." The masked man tried again, low voice a bit more friendly. This time, his frame lowered its tension a bit, the lanky form slouching over slightly as if to seem less frightening. "Hokage-sama calls for you."

Her eyes went wide at the insinuation. She hastily debated in her mind what the hokage might want with her at this time of evening, before Mikoto realized that the current hokage was Minato, the Yondaime, which made the silver-haired anbu's features all fall into place.

"Kakashi-kun?" The teen, tall for his age but not quite filled out yet, jolted at the name. Mikoto winced, "Sorry."

The dog-masked anbu remained silent, head tilting sideways even as the rest of him turned towards the door. A questioning vibe infused every inch of air around him, but it seemed he had no time to tarry. He was impatient, and how Mikoto could tell this much from his covered face was a mystery, but something about the tension in his back turned to her hinted to some underlying urgeancy.

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously alike a curse, turning partly her way again when she did not follow.

"Kushina said you would attend the birth?"

Mikoto's lips parted, gaze shifting between the teen and Itachi who was now sneaking up to hide by the opening to the kitchen. " _Now_..? But?" She hesitated. "I can't leave."

Kakashi's eyes landed on the boy standing beside her before gliding over towards the baby wedged snuggly between the woman's right elbow and hip. This was going to be annoying. But Kakashi knew from the weeks he'd spent tailing Kushina from the shadows that this woman was someone Kushina trusted with her life. And if the way she sounded her request was something to go by it was important that Kakashi returned with the woman in tow.

A quick sweep of the area confirmed that were no other live chakra signatures in the near vicinity, which led him to believe that Mikoto-san was alone in the house. Typical, since it was becoming clear the woman wouldn't leave the children behind just to follow him.

"Bring them."

"What..?"

"Bring the brats with you. We need to get moving _now_."

The small uchiha glared at him, but Kakashi shrugged it off. He had no time for snot-nosed kids, even less uchiha ones. He had a duty towards his hokage. His _Sensei_...

One who was currently close to flipping since the blond haired man knew little more about the whole birthing process than Kushina did. Even worse, the books Minato-sensei had been relying on for information about the subject did not exactly reassure Kakashi any, since the author himself was of questionable caliber.

A sense of foreboding settled over Mikoto and she stepped closer to Itachi. She didn't really wish to leave either of her children alone, but with the determination the teen was exhuding, it soon became obvious she wouldn't have much of a choice. Either leave them and hope Itachi found someone from the surrounding main family to care for them until she came back or bring the two of them with her. Considering the current unease in her stomach, the latter seemed most favorable.

Mikoto swallowed.

"Give me a minute."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Sandalled feet stood on clean tatami floor. A gloved hand closed around the soft fabric that hung neatly over the edge of the carved wooden crib. The open shoji panel across the room admitting a cool, evening breeze that made his nose itch. Eye roaming the closed quarters he was in with boredom he concluded he had miscalculated.

The house was empty, but no matter. He would take what he needed later. There was still time...

Lips twisted into a crooked smirk.

His one eye glided over the rest of the room, mainly the space containing the bed and other personal effects. The affectionate air permeating the place had him close to barfing. The strong flowery scent of jasmine perfume only intensifying the feeling. He was tempted to shake his head at the sight. He eyed the finery. The simple yet exquisite traditional fabrics and furniture that dressed the room, fitting of a noble clan there was another presence lingering in it. A woman's touch, so much his eye twitched from it.

 _The Uchiha have grown shallow_ , he mused.

Shallow and _weak_.

Fooled by their own pride and unchallanged belief that they were superior to any others.

It made him wish he could end their pathetic existance this very moment, fix the mistake that had been allowed to flourish so long ago...

But he needed them.

He needed the power that lay dormant in the eyes of his kin. The ability they had to control the tailed beasts, capable of bending their ancient wills to his own.

A dark chuckle left him.

He folded the long, indigo robe roughly before sealing it inside a scroll.

"First the Kyuubi..." The deep voice announced into the silence, the red and black pinweel pattern swirling ominously. "Then the _real_ fun begins."

The air twisted in place before the dark cloaked figure disappeared without a trace into thin air.

The usually sealed shoji door to the garden left wide open.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

A scream twisted down the tunnel and Mikoto clenched Itachi's hand tighter, hurrying him along. She hadn't dared to let him go ever since they left the compound. Mikoto hadn't been outside the Uchiha District since she gave birth three months ago and possibly longer. A fact that left her ill at ease and she found herself glancing at every hidden corner suspiciously as they went.

Kakashi would have surely bounded over the roofs if she had allowed him to carry her. Then again, there was still Itachi and Mikoto didn't have the confidence that the silver-haired teen would bring him with them if they rushed that way. After all, he wouldn't be able to carry them all by himself.

So after making their way through the packed village streets, she found it odd to see the teen veer down instead of up the stairs once they reached the hokage tower.

"Where are we going?"

"To the prepared location," Kakashi said briskly, his senses easily picking up on the nervous chakra of the woman behind him. "Minato-sensei felt it best to seclude them off down inside the underground storage facilities of the anbu headquarters. For safety reasons."

Mikoto shook her head, a disapproving frown on her face which didn't surprise Kakashi. He expected it. After all, he had noticed the woman's aversion towards enclosed spaces during his shifts guarding Kushina. Mikoto-san must be thinking them mad, trying to contain the problem. But then again, if the Kyuubi _do_ break loose, Kakashi doubted the fifty feet of rock above them would serve enough of a hinderance to stop it.

Light flickered down the tunnel and Mikoto paused to allow Itachi some time to reclaim control over his breathing. Her hand brushed comfortingly at his hair, smoothing the dampening strands back. Itachi had stiffened noticeably during their way here, especially when they came in range of Kushina's uneasy chakra.

She closed her eyes, concentrating her senses.

It was disorganized, a flimsy net wrapped around a much more corrosive core. A chakra pattern that shouldn't be loosing its strength this fast. It was dissolving far too quickly and the knowledge made Mikoto's stomach drop.

"How long?"

Kakashi paused, masked face turning towards her. "What?"

"How long has this been going on?"

There was a clear hesitance in Kakashi's frame, as if he was unwilling to impart the information. But after a moment of silent contemplation he relented. His voice empty, yet chilling at the same time.

"Since this morning."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"I need you to breathe, Kushina-san."

"I _am_ breathing!" she yelled as she clutched her knees, fighting the wave of pain that rippled through her. A hand brushed over her forehead, pushing back her sweaty strands as she panted.

"Listen to Biwako-sama, Kushina."

The redhead twisted, her hand violently grasping his blond hair hard as she tugged Minato's head forward. "Don't you _dare_ tell me what to do, Minato." Kushina winced, hissing once more as she pushed, dragging a pained gasp from the blonde as she increased the tension on his scalp.

"No. Don't push-!" the old crone started.

"I'll very well push whenever I want!"

The door slammed open and Minato somehow wrestled forth a three pronged kunai at the same time as the other two guards shifted towards the entrance. But all dropped their guard at the short pulse of familiar chakra.

A relieved look came over the yondaime's face. "Kakashi."

"Sensei-" But Kakashi was abruptly shoved out of the way as Mikoto forced herself inside.

The darkhaired woman mapped the room quickly; catching sight of the tense shinobi stationed within, the worn medical nin and Lady Biwako – the Sandaime's wife – hovering around the improvised bed. Blood-infused ink lined the floor and walls – Seals meant to control. To _contain_. But Mikoto knew that nothing would suppress the kyuubi unless Kushina fought for it to remain so.

Another agonized cry. Blue eyes half-covered by crimson strands falling on Mikoto where she stood in the doorway as Kushina's face turned in her direction.

She gasped.

"You... You came..."

There was an immediate twinge of guilt in Mikoto's heart at Kushina's surprised yet simultanously relieved tone. As if Kushina had already given up on Mikoto ever making it here before the end. The knowledge only spurred Mikoto on even faster.

Hastily, she herded Itachi towards a small, protected space in the cavernous room. "Sit here, Itachi. I need you to watch Sasuke for a while, ok?"

She smiled at him, knowing that what little information Itachi had picked up on already was starting to frighten him. This close, even Mikoto's bad chakra sense could identify the evil energy that lurked beneath the seal. The Kyuubi was active, listening and biding its time. It must be aware that something was going on outside it's prison.

Large, obsidian orbs stared back at her without faltering before Itachi nodded. His face turning to Sasuke, who Mikoto gave a quick kiss before settling in his arms. Then Mikoto wrapped hers around them for a moment, pressing a firm kiss to Itachi's dark crown, murmuring: "I'll be right over there. I'm not leaving you.."

He nodded.

Mikoto pulled away as cleanly as she could, well aware that if she dawdled any further she wouldn't be able to let him go at all. Her own chakra was prickling in response to the tension in the room. Distantly, Mikoto recognized the sound of the shinobi resealing the door behind them as she pushed in between the people crowding the bed. Her hand immediately clasped the mother to-be's own.

"Kushina."

"It hurts, Mikoto..." The redhead whined, though it came out more like a strangled plead. "Is it supposed to hurt this much?"

Mikoto swept her gaze over her friend's form, trying to ignore everything that was happening downstairs. The medics were ruthless in their focus, working between her legs without any care for personal discretion or modesty. Biting her own bottom lip in worry, Mikoto shrugged out of her outer robe and laid the thin kimono jacket over Kushina's thighs, but not before checking on her progress. Biwako-sama huffed at her actions, but allowed the methaphorical screen to remain in place.

The Uchiha gave an encouraging smile. "You're doing fine."

"Don't.. lie to me, Mikoto." She squeezed her eyes shut as another contraction hit and clenched her teeth.

Mikoto quirked her lips, causing a similar twitch on the redhead's. "When do I ever?"

That earned her a weak but firm slap on her arm and Mikoto allowed it. Keeping Kushina's spirits up was what mattered and if hitting her helped, Kushina may as well take all her frustration out on her. Mikoto's attention was quickly drawn towards Kushina's expanded stomach, however. The seal there glowed faintly and some of the fresh counter seals reinforcing it that Minato had applied on her skin were smudging from Kushina's squirming around.

Mikoto met Minato's eyes. A silent understanding passing between them.

It wasn't really that difficult to read into his thoughts. For his sky blue orbs were hard, carrying an edge of graveness to them Mikoto hadn't seen before.

"It won't be long now," Minato whispered. His hand's restraining Kushina's right one as he pressed the back of her fingers to his lips tenderly. Somehow, the image of hokage looked somewhat displaced on this man in this moment. True, Minato still wore his white cloak over a standard edition jounin uniform, but his face was that of a concerned husband. Far from the usual confident facade he usually sported. This Namikaze Minato was only a man. One waiting to greet his child into the world.

Kushina's head wavered from side to side.

"I can see the head," one of the medics called.

Hearing the start signal, Mikoto collected herself and leaned closer to Kushina's pale, panicking face, urging, "Push, Kushina. Push!"

"Uuoh-!" Kushina huffed for air between her cries, her cheeks inflating like a fire bellow, in and out. "Aahh-!"

Minato disappeared out of sight, but Mikoto didn't get the chance to look where to, thoroughly preoccupied with trying to massage some blood back into Kushina's clenched hand, coaching her to continue between short breaks..

The pungeant, iron-tinted scent of blood grew in the air and Mikoto had a faint notion that Minato must be adjusting the seals using his own blood as a tenuous trickle of chakra shifted around them, meshing into the already humming seal network. Mikoto grimaced at how morbid a picture using blood seals painted but quickly pushed the thought away. She had more important things to focus on.

"Just a little more."

"No, no more-!"

" _Yes_!" Mikoto said sternly. She cupped Kushina's cheeks with her hands, steadying her gaze so that they could lock eyes. The skin beneath her palms was pale and clammy, a light flush covering her cheekbones. That wonderful crimson hair brushed her wrists, whispering.

For a second Mikoto felt her own chakra jolt, then charge until it hummed. Great, blue eyes stared back at her once it settled down again. And for a moment, Mikoto forgot that there were some things she wasn't supposed to interfere with. "Listen to me, Kushina! Your son is arriving to finally meet you. He's banging on the door-!"

Kushina gave an exhausted laugh that danced the line between joyous and insane, her face looking like she couldn't believe she was actually hearing this shit. Yet, after a moment, Kushina's blue eyes softened visibly as she really thought through the Uchiha's words. A wobbly smile growing on her face.

Mikoto grinned back at her widely, aware of where her friend's thoughts had wandered.

"Yes, Kushina. He's a loud, cheeky and utterly wonderful Uzumaki exactly like his mother," Mikoto babbled, trying to distract Kushina from the pain. And from the way tears started to pearl at the corner of those blue eyes Mikoto knew it was working. There was soundless movement behind her, the medics already in place. Armed and ready for whatever might get thrown at them.

So, using a bit more friendly taunting, Mikoto asked:

"Won't you let him out?"

Unbelievable determination took over the Uzumaki's face and with a last long cry, Kushina's formerly pallid complexion reddend from the strain. Time seemed to stop for an unmeasurable length of time and during it Mikoto could only hear her own blood rushing in her ears, before everything fell back into focus. Her chakra fizzled, spiking in response to Kushina's erratic one and then –

The most _beautiful_ sound she ever heard.

Tears flowed freely now and she didn't even attempt to stop them. Her body giving away beneath the sudden lack of pressure and sacking into an almost boneless state. Mikoto rubbed her hand, another smoothing over her forhead with a cool cloth. Mikoto hadn't tried to leave her side yet and Kushina was forever thankful for it. Because Kushina doubted she would have managed to keep herself awake if she had. Her eyes were drooping, fatique calling her. Her whole body quiverred, feeling heavy and comfortably numb. The only sensation in her being the deep churning chakra inside her belly.

Kushina caught sight of the happy expression on Minato's face.

 _The bastard_ , she thought, seeing him suddenly popping into existance by her side like nothing had happened. The flicker of his chakra told her he had used his famed speed for something so superflouous as crossing the room. _Typical Minato_... She was of a mind to shout at him again, but Kushina couldn't bring herself to do it. The pure joy on his face overrode every other action she might have thought of doing that involved any kind of negativity, for now Kushina wanted nothing more than to _kiss_ him.

Hold him to her, and crush both Minato and their new family member together in a big, emotional mess of a hug Kushina knew would have Mikoto teasing her for the rest of her life!

As she stared at him, bewildered by the swell of emotions that had started to crash like waves inside her, Kushina saw Minato hesitate as Biwako came over to him carrying a wrapped, green bundle.

Minato slowly removed his hands off the seal on her belly, being very careful as he accepted the bundle into his arms. His eyes warmed, face aglow as Minato gently stroked the contents resting on the crook of his arm, a bright sheen appearing in his steady eyes as he turned to smile at her.

"You owe me, Kushina." Minato kneeled down beside her, allowing the bundle to rest against Kushina's breast. The alien being inside the blanket shifted sluggishly, but did not otherwise make a fuss. A tuft of fine, blond hair at the top of a round head. "You have a beautiful baby _boy_."

Kushina sniffled, her hands coming up to fold around the newborn. Mikoto smiled, deciding to step down from the intimate moment to allow the new parents some room and started to move away. Her eyes searching out her own boys, finding the pair still seated in the same space.

"Ita-"

The ground flinched, and a low rumble resonated through the rock.

For a second Mikoto fought for balance. The lamp overhead started to swing weakly side to side, grains of rock falling from the slightly domed ceiling above..

One of the hokage's shinobi guards huffed as he pulled himself up from where he had fallen over. Gloved hands brushing dust off from his uniform, grumbling:

"What the hell just-?"

Then there was a loud crash and the world snapped.

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	9. Chapter 9

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** **Violence.**

 **A/N:** Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, favorites and follows! Here's the next, somewhat longer chapter! Now, how will our characters cope? What will happen? And what part does Sasuke play in this mess? There is a larger amount of _violence_ in this one, none too strong, but it's there. So read the warnings!

Enjoy! – DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 9

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Very sluggishly, dark eyes opened to the world. Islands of light swimmed before her vision, but everything moved too much for her to be able to tell _where_ exactly they stood.

Forcing her muscles to move, she realized that she had somehow fallen over and now lay on her stomach. Sharp rocks digging into her abdomen.

She coughed. A dry, burning one that prompted her to spit out strands of thick saliva mixed with fine dust. She could feel the stuff cake her nostrils, scratching her eyes. She blinked, using one shaky hand to rub the powder off her face.

 _Ow!_

Stickiness on her fingertips. A fresh, warm trickle into one eye.

 _Damn..._

Slowly she craned her neck, trying to see through the setting cloud of floating particles in the air.

What caught her eyes first was the nearest form sprawled out next to her. An arm lying listless on the floor. She followed the appendage up towards the torso and head only to regret it a second later, her eyes screwing shut.

 _I did not need to see that..._

She forced the macabre image from her mind.

"Nnn..." Something fell over some feet away and Mikoto tried to screw her head in that direction. Her smarting neck protesting against the normally simple movement. "..Minato..?"

"Ku-Kushina..." Mikoto called weakly, barely audible over the rush in her own ears.

The lamp flickered.

And the serious nature of the situation around her began to dawn on Mikoto. _Kushina. Minato.. Biwako-sama's dead eyes in a face splattered with blood..._ Her heart thudded, her aching head echoing it and she felt vertigo tug on her as she forced herself up on her knees with the help of her arms. The small pile of rubble that covered her tumbled like waterdrops off her form, a light smatter against the stone floor.

A deep breath.

"Kushina?" Desperately, she tried to scan the area. ".. Anyone?"

One side of the room had collapsed, a pool of blood seeping out from underneath a thick slab of rock.

 _Shit.. Fucking shit!_

Another rumble. Further away now, but still propagating through the walls. The ping of chakra surging, strong like a harsh wind. Fighting another...

They had to get moving...

A weak cough. "Mikoto..? Mikoto, I can't find my Naruto. Where's my baby?"

Mikoto's stomach dropped as she remembered. "Itachi?!"

Frantic, she started to move towards the nook she left them in. She didn't have to search long, for a loud wail soon filled the air. One as familiar to her as her own breathing.

"Kaa-san?"

"Itachi? Don't move, alright! Stay right there!"

She crawled over stone and toppled cupboards. Shelves of stored materials and supplies had been thrown over by the shock, blocking her path. Quickly, Mikoto started clearing planks and boxes. A clangour of metal and other damaged materials filled the air. Sasuke's escalating cries only intensifying her haste to reach them.

"I'm coming for you, baby. I'm coming..." Mikoto could spy Itachi trying to calm the crying child in his arms, both of them covered in dust and tiny bits of stone-like fragments. Itachi's once raven hair now a dusty grey, making him seem ghostlike sitting there in the shadows. Yet the glowing red eyes that met her own assured her that they were alright.

"Oh, my god..." Echoed words full of disbelief from behind her. Kushina must have found Biwako-sama then. "Mikoto?"

Small hands scrabbled for purchase on her arms. As nimbly and carefully as she could, Mikoto pulled Itachi and Sasuke out of the rubble. Mikoto's hands roamed their small forms, searching before hugging them both close. "Thank god... Thank you, thank you..." She pressed kisses to their heads, even despite Itachi's struggles to stop her from trying to crush them.

"I'm fine, Kaa-san. We're alright."

"Don't ever scare me like that again!"

"We- _need_ to move." A grave voice uttered.

"Kakashi!" Kushina cried, somehow unable to stop the tears that filled her eyes hearing the normally irritated voice. The teen winced under her weight, but allowed the woman to hug him none the less.

"We need to get out of here. Sensei went after Naruto."

Mikoto flinched.

"Naruto... Why?" Kushina staggered, close to falling over if not for Kakashi's steadying hands on her. He was worried. She was pale as a sheet, clearly the birth was finally taking its toll on her. Mismatched eyes slid over towards the trio still sitting huddled on the floor.

Women _and_ children.

The guards had been the first to be taken out. Kakashi had hoped the medics might have been spared, but one was crushed when the ceiling partially caved in, the other killed swiftly with a kunai to her forehead. If it hadn't been for his sensei, Kakashi would have been dead too. Never had he been so thankful for the hiraishin kunai on him. Yet, deep down, Kakashi knew it was he who had provided the enemy with the opportunity to steal Naruto.

"I don't know. But I do know that Sensei means to get him back," he said, determined. Kakashi tried to focus on the present and not the strong chakras battling it out outside. But it was hard the way the signatures were rubbing up against his mind even at such a distance. "The fighting must be close and this place is already unstable from the previous attack. We need to get to more secure ground."

Kakashi needed to move them to safety. Preferably before this whole place collapsed in around them. Suddenly, the idea of hiding underground sounded like an idiotic thing to do. Especially since the environment had been successfully used against them.

He bit the inside of his cheek.

The whole ordeal was starting to look all too much like a trap to not have been planned before hand. Kakashi pierced his lower lip with one of his canines. Brushing off some of the blood with his thumb before reaching over to slam a hand on the nearby wall.

Poof.

"Kakashi!"

"Sorry, Pakkun. But I need you."

The tiny pug landed with a graceful hop and took a glance over the surrounds, frowning.

"I thought we agreed on not summoning me below ground again?"

Kakashi flinched, but quickly recovered from the not so subtle mention of another nearly failed mission. This was different, he reminded himself. Consciously blocking off the encroaching images of earth and stone trapping him yet again in its cold grasp. Finding his inner balance once more, Kakashi's arms moved to steady Kushina against his side, draping her arm over his shoulder.

"I need you to lead us out," Kakashi explained.

If the room had collapsed, chances are some of the tunnels leading here had as well. He'd rather not get lost in a maze of potentially dangerous rock anytime soon, which meant he needed Pakkun's help. Dogs had uncanny senses and noses that could tell even the smallest particles of fresh air apart from regular tunnel ventilation. And although the Hatake clan retained some of the enhanced senses their canine summons possessed, they were nowhere as sharp as Pakkun's.

"Why do I always find you in a mess bigger than the last one?" the dog grumbled, nose already sniffing out the blood that permeated the air of the room. Pakkun was used to helping his master with missions, but he had never been summoned for one within Konoha itself. And something told Pakkun this was going to be harder than any of his previous ones.

"Just lead us out, Pakkun." Kakashi spared a glance at the others. He was unwilling to leave the bodies behind, but under the circumstances, Kakashi could hardly be expected to preform the proper shinobi comrade procedure of sealing them up before leaving. That would require too much time and work digging for all of the corpses. Time and energy they currently did not have.

The ground shook. Another rumble following before whatever electricity was keeping the single lamp alive cut off.

His eyes narrowed further.

This was so not his day.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Itachi followed close behind the stumbling party. Much of the tunnels had been affected by the blast as well, and plenty more had collapsed in the aftermath of trembling the stone did when something shook the mountain overhead. It was dark, warm and dusty. Only the rough voice of the little dog that had somehow appeared from thin air filled out the silence.

For the first time in his short life, Itachi was uncertain of their future.

They were all somehow managing, but Itachi knew from the troubled expressions and the way his mother kept her jaw clenched tight that the current situation did not sit well with either of the adults.

The dim darkness of the tunnel system was bad enough and without any light to show them the way, orientation became difficult. Thankfully, it became somewhat easier to follow direction when the ghostly white hair of the anbu moved at point position. A good guide for Itachi's tired eyes to track.

A hand gently pushed him forward.

"Keep ahead of me, Itachi."

He nodded, realizing his mother was worried he might fall behind or perhaps get lost along the way. It was not an unlikely scenario, because Itachi had long lost track of the number of twists and turns they had taken.

Itachi almost bumped into the anbu again when Kakashi suddenly stopped in his tracks. Sasuke sniffled quietly. The baby finally sleeping exhaustedly in Mikoto's arms after crying himself to sleep.

A soft dripping noise sounded in the vicinity.

"Another dead end," announced the teen. Mikoto shifted in place. Itachi remained still as he waited for further directions.

"What? Again?" Kushina's long hair brushed Itachi's face as it swayed back and forth like tiny snakes ready to strike. She sounded beyond tired, but somehow the woman kept standing.

"Unless you have a way of getting through this rubble, yes. I'd say its a dead end."

Mikoto sighed, twisting around for a moment to consider their other options. Pakkun started to scratch his ear.

"Don't get snappy with me, Kakashi!"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you _are_!"

"Um, what about that way?"

All turned to face the other side of the straight at Mikoto's soft voice.

"Not that one," came the gravelly reply as the pug brushed up against Mikoto's leg. "It leads even further down towards the lower levels."

Kushina blinked. "Lower still?"

"It leads towards the containment cells," Kakashi explained as if it should have been obvious to all that there even existed such a thing beneath Konoha proper. "Anbu has it's own, dislocated from the main headquarters in case of enemy infiltration, where captives can be temporarily kept until they can be transferred to more secure holding cells. It's far and there's no guarantee its not blocked off further along. The tunnel skirts around beneath the academy at a point, merging with the evacuation tunnels towards the village emergency shelters."

"The shelters.." Mikoto's eyes widened a fraction.

"The entrances will be sealed to protect eventual security leaks," Kakashi argued. "Anbu don't appreciate leaving their doors open, even if civilians would have a hard time locating the correct sequence of tunnels leading towards anbu headquarters when an evacuation is needed.."

Kushina, however, caught on to Mikoto's thought. Her face serious. "But _you_ can open them?"

Kakashi's head snapped from one to the other, suddenly finding their intense gazes boring into him with purpose. He gulped. Not even three years in anbu hardened you enough to be able to withstand Kushina's current stare. "I.. guess?"

The lower tunnels were even more quiet and only the soft tapping of their sandalled feet against stone bounced off the walls. There was a clear layer of dust in the place. A sign that it had been long since the underground shortcuts had been used. Most ninja tend to take to the rooftops, instead of travelling underground for quick access. The only real shinobi who exploit the stealth the tunnels offer are anbu agents, who regularly use the system to relocate from the village walls towards the heart of the village and their headquarters unnoticed by even the regular shinobi patrols. Kakashi believed it was secrecy, rather than stealth, that motivated the route. Dragging captives across Konoha's skyline was somewhat unflattering for shinobi image after all, what with the large amount of civilians living in Konoha.

Kakashi moved anxiously down the dark tunnel. His nose and ears already on high alert once they made it far enough underground that there was little other scents to guide them. Pakkun held a similar stance beside him, the small dog prowling the tunnels in stern silence compared to his regular chatter.

It had taken Kakashi a moment to pick up on the chakra code laced into the walls. An anbu tool meant for easy orientation in this stone maze. Thankfully, the realization meant that they were walking a little less blindly and hopefully in the right direction.

Kushina huffed, leaning against cool stone once they stopped.

"Tell me something good," Kushina begged. Her face tired, yet her eyes remained firm. Kushina was determined to make it out of here alive, catch up to Minato and kick ass! Her life's greatest moment had been ruined, her baby taken and her husband now risked his life to set things back to normal again.

Why, of all the women in the world, did she have such bad luck?

She placed a hand over the burning seal on her belly. It was still intact, but it wasn't holding up as well as it was supposed to. Especially since Kushina could now hear the low growling of the Kyuubi in the background almost constantly. He was closer to the surface now and it bothered her. Kushina could only fear the worst and assume that the seal had been weakened. Which meant she needed Minato's sealing skills to stabilize it and fast.

"Well," Kakashi started, the teen finally unclasping his anbu mask from his face, securing it on his belt to better see the chakra formation around what looked like the outline of a door. "We've found the entrance. I just need to pick myself through these security seals..."

Kakashi grimaced inwardly. Security seals had never been his strongest suit, no matter how hard Minato-sensei tried to hammer the theory behind them into his head.

Mikoto breathed a sigh of relief, silently watching the teen try to disassemble the array with strokes of chakra at certain points in the sealwork. These were Anbu seals. Nothing like the wild one's the Uzumaki clan prided themselves on. No, it was clean, geometrical in shape and an utter pain to calculate the passage key to.

She turned to see Itachi use the opportunity to slide down the wall to the ground, resting his aching leg muscles. Mikoto was still amazed by the tenacity the boy displayed. Mikoto hadn't heard Itachi complain once.

"Oh, come on!" Kushina whined. "Let me try. You need to _override_ these things."

"I don't think that's wise, Kushina-san..."

"Wisdom never got Minato's sealing skills very far, Kakashi. If he hadn't picked up a bit of my recklessness, where would we be? Hm? Stuck with stiff seal matrixes, which were efficient over half a century ago and utilizing Jiraiya's modernized interpretions of Sandaime-sama's second hand skills, that's where!"

Mikoto rolled her eyes, recognizing an impending argument when she heard one. Debating seals and any theory around them with Kushina was like asking for a fight. Which often left Mikoto wondering how Kushina and Minato ever hit it off together in the first place. She blocked the conversation out, allowing her dark orbs to slide over to Itachi instead. "You alright there, Itachi-chan?"

He nodded and Mikoto crouched down before him. Itachi's hand was unhesitant as he reached out to brush over Sasuke's soft hair affectionately. Mikoto sighed, knowing the boy would clam up at the most inoppertune moments. She never liked it when Itachi became reserved and introverted like this. It was never good bottling up feelings, even if he believed fear to be a weakness.

"You know you can always talk to me, right?"

His dark eyes raised to meet her own, but got distracted by something past her shoulder.

"Itachi?"

A small victory cry sounded from Kushina as the sealed opening scraped open with a dull screech, but all Itachi could focus on was the stone wall liquifying behind Mikoto. A long, solid protrusion stretched out of the stone, shaping up into an arm as it reached for her head...

"Ne, we found the way out-"

"Kaa-san!"

A shockwave of white light blinded the tunnel, smoke forming a thin, white cloud by the doorway.

Burning paper fragments mingled in the air, remains of a flash tag shrivelling up slowly like loose, fiery mosaic.

Itachi warily lowered his raised arms down from proctecting his face. His sharingan had saved his otherwise blinded vision and Itachi watched in horrid fascination as a pool of chakra surfaced from the opposite wall, forming until the being took the shape of a male who seemed to be simply stepping out of a bath, only this one contained solid rock and was vertical to the ground.

Itachi hastily scanned the rest of the area. Finding Kushina's and Kakashi's signatures scrambling on the outside, while his mother's lay crumpled in a heap far to his right.

"Tsk, tsk. Lowering your guard. And you call yourself an Uchiha."

Itachi stiffened at the condescending tone. The deep baritone reverberated through the air without any visible effort on the male's part. His tall form standing relaxed and perfectly poised, dangerous in the narrow, enclosed space.

"I would have thought someone to have taught you by now to never underestimate the element of surprise. But I guess, I could give you that lesson now."

The male, hooded and dressed in a long, black cloak stalked closer to the crumpled form on the ground, stooping down to snatch something off his mother. Itachi's eyes widened further when he realized what the man was picking up like a mere sack of rice.

He held the child by his clothing, hovering Sasuke before his face as if scrutinizing him.

"You will have to do."

There was no emotion behind the statement, nothing to attest to any underlying grudge or hate that might have motivated him enough to target the child. And perhaps, that was what scared Itachi the most.

Forcing his muscles to tense Itachi tried to take action.

"Let him go."

The hood turned while Sasuke's body was lowered a bit, the shift causing the baby to stir.

"Hn?" Instead of a face, Itachi was met with a plain mask carrying tiger-like stripes that surrounded a single, round hole. In the dark Itachi could see the bleeding red of a sharingan swirling ominously within, leading his skin to prickle with spikes of unease. "Ho. Another one, huh."

Itachi's legs shook as he stood in an adapted version of the standard academy denfensive stance he had taken upon rising. His hands were stretched forwards but were undeniably empty. Leaving him feeling uncomfortably naked with only his bare hands to use as defense. Itachi was severly inferior in strength in his current position, a fact that did not slip his notice. His tiny frame was pitiful compared to this man's towering one.

But he had to try.

Sasuke started crying, the masked man wincing a bit as he did. Itachi was certain he would throw Sasuke into the wall for screaming in his ear, but he didn't. Instead, one hand reached towards the scroll at his hip.

"What are you trying to do?" Itachi questioned quickly, sharingan wheeling at the sight.

A dark chuckle.

"Ho. Are you going to try and stop me, brat?"

Itachi flinched, eyes never leaving his form even as the man sparked chakra into the scroll. A poof filled the air before a sheet of silky, indigo fabric fluttered in an arch through the air. Sasuke's sobs grew higher, but were muffled somewhat as the male draped the fabric over him.

"Be quiet," The masked man ordered darkly. A flash of sharingan was reflected in Sasuke's eyes before he quieted, eyes closing as he fell back asleep. Itachi felt his throat constrict at the sight.

Then the towering male quickly bundled the baby up in the robe, locking it securely under one arm before eyeing the little Uchiha standing defiantly before him. Blocking his escape route.

He stared unaffected into the boy's eyes, sharingan meeting sharingan. It was something Itachi believed should be impossible, because no member of the clan would ever try to harm Sasuke or his mother. It was unheared of. To attack the clan head's family meant becoming a traitor to the clan. The knowledge made Itachi tense further, but the masked man only seemed more amused by it.

"What are you going to do, brat? Glare me to death?"

Itachi paled slighly and the man started laughing openly as Itachi shifted in his kata into a more offensive stance, he soon sobered however. The masked man stared him down for a long moment before he decided on his course.

"How about I ease your suffering, boy? Put you out of your misery of living in this corrupted world.."

Itachi barely had the time to react before a blade came rushing down towards him, his back hit the wall as Itachi automatically stepped away on reflex. But he was too slow. His arms rushing up to fend the swipe off before something stopped the metal's path with a loud _chink_.

His breath hitched.

A soft drip, drip of warm red splattered on his uncovered toes.

Itachi looked up to see his mother bracing the kunai with both hands. One cut into by the sharp edge of the blade, blood seeping from the deep wound in her palm. Her face was hard, strained. But she didn't hesitate to meet eyes with the mask before her.

"That's my son your playing with..." Her arms shook, so Mikoto made a final jerk backwards taking her enemy by surprise and tugging the handle out of his grip.

Malevolent chakra surged and Mikoto gasped. The masked individual becoming, if possible, even more menacing as he wrapped his free hand around her throat. Tightening.

"You think you have any right to interfere, woman?" He growled dangerously.

She struggled, her dark eyes growing large at the pressure, her feet only just lifted off the ground. The kunai dropped from her grasp hitting stone with a loud clang. Her hands creeping up to try and dislodge the fingers around her throat, clawing at his hand and wrist.

"I- I don't let... bad men.. " She gasped for air. "..play with my.. children-!"

Something loud crashed against the outside wall of the mountain, burning flames licking at the enterance way. Then suddenly, a great chakra pressure rose in the air, making Itachi's body feel three times as heavy as it really was. He couldn't move. Could barely breathe, the air catching in his lungs. His chakra jumping erratically at the ancient evil permeating the air.

Elation overcame the masked man, his head turning only fractionally from his current prey to sense the disturbance dawning outside. The vast chakra was curling, forming and soon a great roar filled the air. Rocking the ground even as heavy thuds followed. The ear-deafening village evacuation horn started to ring through the air. Hundreds of chakra signatures sparking to life in preparation.

Heavy smoke from fires and houses burning filled the air, drifting inside the tunnel as a sign of the destruction commensing outside..

 _It has begun then_ , he thought with a mad smile twisting his lips.

He laughed, clenching his hand further and cutting off the air to her lungs fully.

"You will remember this day," he drawled, his single visible eye taking in her face changing colour. How her eyes struggled to focus, flitting around unable to pinpoint his face. He pulled her up close, breath whispering over her ear and he delighted in the silent fear he could feel radiate off her. He smirked. "The day when _Uchiha Madara_ finally had his revenge."

Then, as quickly as the volatile chakra manifested it disappeared.

The shock was enough to loosen his grasp, his eye swerving towards the entrenceway in confusion. Mikoto drew a strangled gasp at the lessened pressure, the sound rasping in her throat, before she suddenly shifted her arms to lock around his, fingers digging into clothed muscle.

"I-Itachi.." Itachi choked down on his coughs, eyes widening at her regained voice, however mangled it was. "Jump-!"

Madara barely had the time to turn back and face her when the sprinklers suddenly started, heavy sheets of water pouring down over them. He cursed at the infuriating woman. The sprays of water restricting his eyesight even further.

He tried to step back, but her hands held firm even after he released her. Her body being dragged along with him in the motion.

It only took a split of a second for Mikoto's already agitated chakra to charge and violently lash outwards. The water increasing her potency exponentially as flashing veins of lightning crackled off her skin, springing at the nearest grounded object that just so happened to be a certain masked man.

The influx of shocking electricity made his body jitter sharply, sharingan eye large and mask cracking before his form started churning chakra internally. The fragments dismembered his chakra pathways into scrambled pieces of raw energy before the masked man cancelled with a small _pop_.

Thud.

Itachi rushed forward as he watched his mother hit stone. Her chest still and eyes wide open. Static still crackled twice, before stopping all together. Leaving her lying lifeless on the drenched ground.

"Kaa-san..? Kaa-san!" Itachi shook her shoulders before turning her over on her back. Heart nearly jumping out of his small chest when she inhaled deeply, coughs soon wrecking her form. "Kaa-san!"

He placed each of his hands on either side of her face, watching as obsidian eyes slowly cracked open, her lungs still panting for air through her mangled throat.

"-ke.."

"What?"

"Sasuke.. go."

Itachi hurried over, quickly finding the bundle to one side of a pile of rubble. The blue fabric was soaked through by now, but Itachi breathed a sigh of relief finding a sleepy-eyed, blinking babe inside it. Sasuke cried out, however, once Itachi accidentally brushed over his back with one hand, tinted fluid seeping through the thin silk to stain his palm.

"You'll be fine, otouto," Itachi said, more as reassurance for himself as he made quick work of reaching his mother. Falling on his knees beside her. "Look, it's Kaa-san."

Shaky hands reached for the babe, small hushing noises fleeing her lips. "Sasuke..."

Itachi kneeled beside them. His hands grasping the side of Mikoto's clothed torso. His lips were turning blue, hair dripping from the water still raining down on them. They were soaked to the bone and chilling fast.

A hand nestled in his hair, dragging him closer so that they could meet foreheads. "My Itachi..."

He blinked. Unwilling to admit the tears mingling in with the rest of the water.

Mikoto's eyes closed, somehow finding peace in knowing she had her children close again.

Mere seconds passed and Itachi basked content in the safety of his mother's hold without restraint. But warmth slowly trickled along his scalp and shattered the peaceful moment. Itachi realized his mother's injured hand was patting down his hair, bringing back the situation full force once more.

"Kaa-san."

"What, Itachi?"

"Kaa-san, we need to get help."

Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. Itachi adjusted her arm, setting Sasuke on her chest as gently as possible. Sasuke snuggled into her, uncaring of the blood that stained her front. Mikoto whispered to him and Itachi felt increasingly worried. The lack of urgeancy his mother displayed gnawed at him. They needed to get out, to get help! But Itachi didn't know how..

"Up, Kaa-san. We need to get up." He tugged at her arm, hooking one around his neck. She groaned, low but loud enough for him to pick up on it. "We need to find the others."

It took a while, but eventually, and after almost dropping Sasuke twice in the process, Itachi managed to get his mother onto her feet. They walked unsteadily towards the entranceway. Itachi's sharingan actively navigating them around rubble and other objects hindering their way.

The fresh air was a relief. But the sight that met them as they exited the tunnel was anything but.

Itachi's dark eyes grew wide as he took in their surroundings. From the skeleton like forms of buildings rising into the sky around them he could tell they were a few streets off from the Academy grounds. The small park like area he and his other academy friends sometimes played in could be glimpsed behind a wrecked house that seemed to have had half of it crushed beneath something.

The rockfaces of the Hogake monument had large blotches of soot covering parts of it. Smoke reeking and rising in thick plumes from certain spots around the village.

Sharply, Itachi tracked the shadows that flew over the rooftops in the far distance. Shinobi dressed in full gear rushing from one place to another. Yet, in the scramble, Itachi could see no apparent cause for the widespread destruction.

"Uh-!"

Itachi panicked, reacting a bit too late as Mikoto fell to her knees. Her head bent slightly as she panted.

He crouched down beside her, worry seeping into his eyes. Dark, reddish markings marred her neck. Her face smeared with crusted blood from a cut on her forhead. A large bruise bloomed on one side of her face, most probably from the fierce backhand used to knock her out of the way in the tunnel. Itachi felt something strong and almost violent bubble up inside him, his mind replaying the sight of the masked man hitting her from behind, which caused her to fly sideways when he first attacked.

 _She looks worse off than she is_ , Itachi continued to tell himself. It became almost a mantra as he fussed around her despite her weak protests. He used strips torn from her kimono hem to bind her still bleeding hand. Hopefully, it would staunch the bleeding somewhat.

At least Sasuke seemed healthy enough, even if he was noticeably more silent than he normally was.

No, it was not the bruising or the paleness of his mother's face that scared Itachi. It was her dangerously low reserves he could spy with his sharingan. The chakra had retreated back towards her gates. Concentrating deep around the vital organs.

"Itachi, I'm fine." Mikoto huffed, putting up a facade Itachi saw through the second she raised it. She pressed her hand against his cheek. " _Please_. We need to move..."

"Kaa-san..."

"Their sending the village into evacuation. Itachi, you remember what that means, don't you?"

Itachi's face hardened. "The shelters."

Mikoto nodded in acknowledgement of his words. She felt weary, but on edge. Mikoto dragged her boy close again, leeching off whatever body heat they had between themselves. She could feel Itachi shiver even though there were plenty of fires about the village. In fact, there were enough to heat a significant number of ovens needed to feed a small country. Yet, judging from the rising steam appearing in the distance, ninja were already working on extinguishing and containing the flames..

She had tried to sense for any other's in the vicinity. Anyone who might help them out of this mess. But her sensory abilities were not cooperating with her. Instead, she found herself fixing on Itachi's nearby one. Depending on its closeness to ground her to the present.

Mikoto shifted slightly, but quickly regretted it as her body ached, drawing a pained wince. Something was building in her abdomen. Tensing and making movement difficult. Mikoto grit her teeth against the pain, instead concentrating on what mattered in that moment. In her current state, she would only drag them down and if she was the cause of them being hurt, Mikoto would never be able to forgive herself. No, she needed to keep sight of her priorities.

To see to it that her children reached safety before it became too late.

"Listen to me, Itachi."

Obsidian eyes focused on her, tired yet oh so trusting. Mikoto really hated to do this, but in this situation she didn't really have much of an other choice. She steeled herself, preparing for the betrayal she knew she would see on his young face. She brushed a couple of raven strands back behind his ear, hoping that Itachi could find it in him to forgive her later on.

Her voice shook, but she forced herself to continue:

"Take Sasuke.. Take Sasuke and go."

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	10. Chapter 10

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

 **A/N:** The next chapter, although more of a connecting one. So a bit shorter in length. I'm trying to sort out the knot, and some things are still left tangled, but things will clear up later. This chapter is also when there's some serious deviation from original canon timeline/events (see warning!). About character deaths, it really pains me, but I felt it necessary to be able to proceed the way I want to. So, try to not be too sad! It gets brighter, I promise.

Enjoy, DustyRabbit.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 10

 **.oOo.**

* * *

"Take Sasuke.. Take Sasuke and go."

"What?" Itachi couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I need you and your brother to get to safety." She hissed, adjusting her posture slighly. "From here, it isn't far to the shelters."

She grasped his shoulder. "Go to the academy. Your teachers showed the entrance to you at the beginning of the year, remember? From there, the evacuation tunnel will take you directly to the shelters. It's always guarded according to standard emergency protocol. There will be chuunin stationed there to help civilians and children to pass through unscathed."

"I will _not_ leave you here, Kaa-san," Itachi said stubbornly.

"Do not argue with me!"

He flinched at the slight raise in voice. Mikoto regretted the reprimand immediately, clenching her hands in his short-sleeved shirt. "The shinobi, the Military Police will be assisting with rounding up the civilians. It will only be a matter of time before someone passes through here."

Itachi hesistated. His dark eyes scouring the surrounding street and buildings lining it, many which looked on the verge of collapsing from the various fires and attacks taking their toll on them. There was more activity towards the village centre. He could tell by the flocking chakra signatures in that direction. Still, there was no knowing what enemy had caused this sudden destruction and Itachi was unwilling to leave his mother alone without that vital knowledge. He would not allow that masked man another chance to kill her.

He was about to tell her this, when a groan permeated the air.

Both their heads turned, concentrating on localizing its source.

Again.

Itachi pushed onto his feet, his body weaving along the uneven ground, upturned by what seemed to be huge enough to cross the area in a single leap.

"Itachi.. Itachi, get back here!" His mother's worried voice carried down after him, but he ignore it. Continuing on until he came to a felled tree, the wood half buried beneath soil, bark charred on one side and there, nestled in its singed and broken branches, was the source of the moaning.

Hope flickered in his heart, Itachi's tired body scrambling over the rubble to reach the gangly form.

"Kakashi-san!"

Mikoto blinked, her eyes trying to peer through the haze obscuring her sight. She wrapped her arms around Sasuke, willing herself forward. She needed to get to Itachi. Oh, what a time for him to ignore her words! She huffed from exertion, feeling heavier, as if she couldn't support her own weight without struggling. It was slow work. Mikoto's muscles protested against even the most miniscule movements and she was reduced to a clumsy half-crawl along the rough ground.

"Kakashi-san!" Itachi stopped, carefully allowing the downed ANBU to hone in on his presence.

A pained expression painted Kakashi's face, which was uncovered but for two semi-connected, flimsy black pieces of cloth stretching over his chin and right cheek. His silvery hair matted, clotted with blood and dirt. Stray leaves were caught up in the electric strands. Kakashi slowly reached for his face, rubbing at the dried blood obscuring his vision to trail down his cheek.

"Are you alright?" He heard a young voice ask, and it took Kakashi a moment to recognize who it belonged to.

"Uchiha," the teen grumbled, then hissed as he jerked upright, hands clutching at his leg.

"Don't move it."

Kakashi froze, his one grey eye peering up at the tiny uchiha standing over him, the left firmly squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to conserve much needed chakra.

It was then that he noticed the body of a branch piercing through his left thigh. "Oh.. Fuck no."

Then it all rushed back at him.

He remembered fending off a masked man aiming to stab Kushina. Kakashi's tanto covered in lightning as he pushed the man back. He stopped the strike, while obtaining another shallow slash up his arm for himself. Somehow, Kushina and him had gotten caught in the blast of a flash tag and their assailant had taken full advantage of their stunned states. Using their partly blinded vision against them, the masked man had moved quickly and perfectly aware of the holes in their hastily constructed back-to-back defense, aiming at their weak spots.

It had all seemed too unreal, because Kakashi clearly remembered impaling the masked man twice in the side with his tanto yet he still kept on going. Brushing him off as if Kakashi's attacks were mere flies, annoying and easy to swat away. Then, there came the short spike of Minato-sensei's chakra, which caused a split second's distraction and all hell had broken loose.

Kakashi couldn't pinpoint when exactly Kushina turned on him, but by the time the evil chakra started to cloak her body, Kakashi found it increasingly hard to determine her intentions. She had crashed throught the vicinity as if nothing could hurt her, an impenetrable shield of chakra cocooning her. Yet Kakashi knew that the state Kushina was in could not be favorable for her. Shunting that much raw chakra all at once could not be healthy.

Small fingers closed around the wood protruding though his flesh.

Kakashi breathed a long, steadying breath while eying him warily. Kakashi was ANBU, yet a kid had more brains to steady the wound than he had at the moment. He cursed under his breath, drawing slowly spinning red eyes to him.

"I don't think it will budge," Itachi commented.

Kakashi nodded grimly. The branch he had fallen on was still very much attached to the tree and in his position there was no way Kakashi would be able to lift himself steadily enough to push his leg of it. Kakashi winced just thinking of the pain he was going to have to put himself through.

"You'll have to cut it off."

Itachi turned alarmed, his face going pale causing Kakashi to groan. "Not my leg, the branch!"

Itachi frowned. "I don't think that will work."

"Well, we have to try something.." He was feeling his patience running out in the sand. Kakashi was fairly certain he would pass out from the pain if not from the blood loss that would follow the extraction. He was already bleeding, yet the silver-haired teen knew the moment they removed that branch he would lose more and fast.

He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Right kunai holster."

Itachi nodded, reaching for the item and withdrawing the last kunai stored there. He gulped, coming face to face with the razor sharp blade. This was no practice kunai, like the ones they used at the academy, nor was it the poorly sharpened ones Itachi had at home for his training. He reminded himself to get his father to sharpen his when he got back. Itachi was certain that this one would have no problem tearing through clothing and skin, even without using particularly much force behind it.

Kakashi eyed the Uchiha warily. It wasn't that he didn't trust the blade to cut into the wood readily, but he doubted the boy's aim...

Itachi hesitated for another moment before he moved, hacking at the wood in short, swift strikes. Kakashi winced with each hit, his hands clasping his leg in place to keep it from moving as much as possible. There was little space to move to begin with, and he'd rather not have Itachi cleaving at his leg rather than the branch.

Distantly, he heard the low cries of a voice. But he couldn't drop his focus.

Kakashi let out a pained yelp once the wood was severed fully. With nothing to hold him in place atop the bark any longer Kakashi started to roll sideways off the trunk, landing on the ground with a grunt.

"Itachi!"

"I'm okay, Kaa-san."

Kakashi opened his eyes slightly, overlapping the twin images into one to see Mikoto-san limp over towards them. She sat down beside him without much restraint, as if her legs could barely hold her. Her dark eyes scanned his figure for a moment.

"You're pretty bashed up, Kakashi-kun." There was no humor in her voice nor did her eyes replicate their normal teasing nature he had seen her use around Kushina.

"Yes," he admitted. He watched her set Sasuke gently on the ground, fingers coming over to prod at the flesh surrounding the branch, causing him to hiss.

A deep resounding sigh left her body and Kakashi wondered what had caused the woman to expel it. Of course, they were all worse for wear. Even if Mikoto looked somewhat dazed compared to normal, her pale face shining with orange and red under the darkening evening sky...

After a long moments examination, it seemed she was satisfied.

"Belt."

"What?"

"Your belt," she demanded with her hand stretched out. Kakashi rolled one eye, fingers working the dark leather before handing the object to her. She made quick use of it, using the kunai they had been using to produce another notch in it before wrapping it twice and tight around his upper thigh. Itachi watched from the sidelines, somewhat shocked by his mother's rough actions, but Kakashi simply snorted.

Mikoto stood on her knees again, wrapping her hands around the branch while propping her leg under his knee.

"What are you doing?" Asked Kakashi nervously as he watched with carefully controlled horror as she practiced tensing her grip around the wood for a moment.

"You'll need to keep still. Itachi, press his knee against my leg. The branch is thicker in the back, which means we have to pull it this way. You're lucky most of the smaller twigs were broken off upon entry."

Kakashi blanched feeling her hands brush close on the back of his left thigh. He twisted, forcing himself to look away from the sight. It would hurt either way. But in his position, locked between a woman's bent leg and a mini Uchiha, who was laying all his weight on him to keep him in place, Kakashi could sense his dignity deplete rapidly.

"Ready?"

Kakashi tensed, his hand grasping hold of a piece of wood sticking out of the ground. Years in ANBU had taught him pain. Allowed him to experience its different shapes and visages. But nothing could prepare him for the searing pain shooting up his leg as there was a harsh tug!

"Gah!"

He panted, sweat pooling at his temple as he fought for breath. His leg burned. Not the sharp, icy bite of steel he usually endured on missions, but hard and unforgiving. It felt like the bark of the branch was shredding him from the inside. And considering the size of the branch, it wasn't wholly impossible the thing might have more resilient outgrowths spawning up its length inside his leg. It would certainly explain the pain.

"Good, Kakashi. It's okay to scream." His eye cracked open upon the familiar address, noting the look of concentration on her face. She didn't even care if he heard her, she simply focused on keeping the precarious piece of wood in place to not risk it breaking off inside. It was important that all got out.

He sucked air, unwilling to admit that he _had_ screamed. It was not proper. Shinobi did not fear pain. They grew accustomed to it. He continued to tell himself so yet his heart thundered inside his chest, still not able to settle down after the experience.

"Right, last bit left."

His tired, half-lidded eye fixed at the tree. A mere _plant_ had caused him this much suffering just from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kakashi was not one to be defeated.

He gripped his lip between his teeth, determined to choke down the pained cry threatening to leave him.

When this was over Kakashi was going to _burn_ it.

To hell with it, even if it is a Hashirama tree! Kakashi wouldn't leave a single chip of the goddamn thing untouched!

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Kushina staggered on, her feet guiding her forward even though she had no idea where she was heading. Her mind was a blur and through the haze she barely noticed the carnage around her. All that mattered was that something was calling to her.

She felt cold. More so than she ever had felt before.

Her skin crawled, most of it missing after whatever had happened to her. It left behind large patches of raw, angry flesh. The pain of which should be unbearable, yet she couldn't seem to feel an inkling of it. Detached. It was as if everything had been simply a dream, something she could not touch upon while still expecting to stay sane.

Kushina had no memory of it.

All she could recollect was the passing need to be with Minato. _Her_ Minato, who had flashed his chakra in panic. A silent call for help.

She had let him down, she knew.

The emptiness of her stomach told her as much. For there was no longer any warm chakra pooling there. It was all gone.

Just like Minato. Like Naruto.

Tears pooled in her eyes, her long garnet hair sticking on her bloody skin. The flesh no longer covered, but exposed to the elements. The light gown she had been wearing before the birth already shredded beyond recognition. Flimsy bits of fabric barely covering her hips. Her breasts exposed but for the parts covered by her long, red hair.

The chakra had burned it all.

Such raw, evil and utterly dismantling chakra.

Full of anger.

How could anyone think that, that.. _thing_ a blessing?

The masked man that attacked them apparently did, for Kushina saw the way his sole eye fastened on her seal. The way he seemed to almost be able to read the chakra churning beneath her skin.

She shivered, a semblence of disgust surfacing when she remembered how exposed she felt under that gaze.

Her mindless walk stopped abruptly, however, as she suddenly recognized her bearings. Her blue eyes going wide as she lay eyes on a stairwell. The stairwell leading up into their apartment building.

Slowly, Kushina dragged herself up. Flashing her chakra signature to unlock the security seals keeping her home safe. The door creaked open, untouched despite the destruction that had played out in the village.

Her heart fluttered. Something squirming in her stomach as she took unsteady steps inside. Uncaring of the way her bloodied feet left tracks on the floors. She even forgot to shut the door behind her as she tread inside, body automatically drawn towards their bedroom.

"Minato..?" She asked, hesitant. Unsettled by the silence anwering her Kushina creeped onwards. Their apartment looked the same as when they left it earlier that morning. The kitchen still a mess, a haphazard pile of clothing spread over the couch from where she had been busy folding last nights laundry.

Cautious, she silently pushed the bedroom door open.

"Kushina-chan."

She blinked. The seal arrays still hummed with Minato's chakra, covering the walls, floor and ceiling. Yet in the centre of the floor, right in front of the bed was another, less prominate signature. A small, hunched form lingered, standing in the way of her view of it.

Her mind struggled furiously to remember the name of that warm voice.

"S-Shima-san?"

"Oh, my dear child," the purple-haired amphibian crooned. Her webbed fingers reaching out for her, but Kushina stepped back. Suddenly feeling anxious and upset for no reason. Shima smiled sadly at her. "Tou-chan went out looking for you. I was wondering why he did not return.."

"Fukasaku-sama?" Kushina's eyes scanned the room. "Why are you here? Where's Minato?"

Shima closed her eyes at the question, lips thinning into a somber grimace as she turned to retrieve something from behind her. Kushina watched wide-eyed as she hoisted something up in her arms. The weight of it seemed larger than her own, but somehow, the tiny frog still managed it.

"Minato-chan asked us to bring him to you.." She said with her voice lowered, dripping with a myriad of emotions. "Tou-chan wished to stay and fight, but Minato-chan made us promise. He entrusted the boy to us. To get the both of you out of this mess safely."

"M-Minato..." Kushina hiccupped. Her eyes watering. "Minato told you to.."

Shima shuffled closer, hurrying when Kushina collapsed down on her knees as her legs gave out. The elderly frog had known this would happen. That nothing good would come from leaving Minato to fight by himself. The boy was too oblivious of how much of an impact his death would have on Kushina. The woman was sensitive, even if she didn't show it outwards. The loss of her husband would shake her harder than anything she suffered through before this. Minato had become her new rock, her safe place where she could live happily and without judgement. To have it swept out from under her feet so suddenly would devastate her.

"Kushina-chan," Shima shifted so that she could rub a cool hand over her thigh in an attempt to comfort her, wincing at the raw flesh she saw there. Instinctively withdrawing her hand.

"Minato... Minato's gone then?" Kushina's voice shook. It shouldn't have been such a surprise. Now that the pain was starting to filter back again, she couldn't block off her other senses. Kushina couldn't sense Minato's signature anywhere in Konoha. It was gone, as if disappeared off the face of the earth. Her hands fell listless on her lap, her eyes becoming more and more vacant as her grief intensified.

"Not for nothing, Kushina-chan." Shima lay the bundle in her hands. Watching the redhead stiffen as the fabric, dusty and bearing questionable stains of blood, touched her raw-looking palms. "He's a hero. But he saved more than Konoha. Minato-chan saved that which he thought was more important than his own life."

Delicately, Shima unravelled the cloth from the bundle, allowing a tiny, pink face to peek out from among the green.

Kushina gave a sob, her eyes dripping with tears as she stared down at her son. _Their son._ As if she had held him all her life she adjusted his tiny weight in her arms. One thumb brushing against weak, whisker-like markings along his cheek.

"These were not here before..."

"Aye. You have to understand. Minato-chan did not want to, but he _had_ to.." Kushina met her sad gaze and Shima watched realization dawn on the redhead's face.

"He sealed the Kyuubi into our son.." Kushina fought to come to terms with it, the knowledge that she had forced her son to become that which she never wished upon anyone. A flesh prison for a demon. An existance feared in the village beyond all. If only she had controlled the Kyuubi better, fought to uphold the seal a little longer...

Tears burned in her eyes. Angry tears at herself, at Minato and the world that had made her what she was.

It had taken years for Kushina to come to terms with her fate. To realize that the honor she thought it had initially meant was just a shroud to hide the ugly truth. She was a sacrifice. A threat that could turn on them at any second. A source of great unease amongst the villagers that would always gain her wary glances and harsh, cruel whispers.

And now her only son and family had been doomed to the same fate...

"It was a last resort. If there had been another way to stop it, I'm sure Minato-chan would have thought of it. But the Kyuubi..." Shima shook her head. The elder amphibian felt for the woman. She had met Kushina on numerous occasions and knew how stigmatized the woman felt for being the Kyuubi container. It had isolated Kushina for most of her life and forced her to work hard for every bit of acknowledgement she had earned. It was sad, how people could be so blind. "The Kyuubi would have razed the village to the ground. Minato-chan tried to fight it off, but it was determined."

Not even their best fighters had been enough. Their largest toad summons were defeated trying to steer the ninetails away from the village walls after Minato managed to translocate it from Konoha with an enhanced transportation seal. But even a man of Minato's reserves could only move such a large mass of natural chakra so far, without suffering serious effects on his fighting capabilities. Yet, the Kyuubi would not relent. Something fierce drove the beast tirelessly. Blinding it from anything else but the village... Even to Shima, who had stood on the sidelines for most of the fight since they were summoned, the final solution quickly became obvious. Such an ancient anger could not be redirected, thus the only realistic resort became to contain it. If only to restrict the damage already done by its rampage.

"It's not your fault, Kushina-chan. Nor can we hold Minato accountable for trying his best."

Kushina hugged her baby closer. Trying to push off thoughts of how it must have felt to realize there was no other option away. Minato was her husband and the father of her child. But that was not his only role. He was Hokage. The _Yondaime_ and he had always lived for the role.

 _In the end you saved the village, Minato. Even if you had to sacrifice everything precious to you in the process._

She sniffed. A wave of tiredness pouring over her.

"Come," Shima coaxed. Slowly, she managed to get the redhead to crawl onto the bed. Both mother and child quickly fell asleep, tears mingling with ragged, red hair on her cheeks. It was an overwhelming sight. One so filled with silent grief that Shima could barely stand seeing it on the normally happy redhead. It was too strong of a contrast to the playful Kushina who would tease the flushing Minato, a brilliant smile on her face constantly.

It was with a deep sadness that Shima started the exhausting work of healing the woman. Little, webbed hands filtering nature chakra to roughly regrow skin as best she could, closing off large areas of damaged tissue, the cuts and injuries that littered her form.

It wasn't until an hour later that Fukasaku checked back in on her. His furry, white eyebrows furrowing seeing Shima sitting silently on the bed.

"Kaa-chan?"

"She came back on her own, Tou-chan. She was in such a terrible state..."

Fukasaku nodded and hopped up on the bed, peering down at the now slumbering pair. A blanket had been spread over them to keep them warm, a small defense against the cold reality that would hit them head on as soon as they awoke the next day.

"The village is a mess. The civilians have been evacuated, the shinobi are all scouring the village and remaining rubble for survivors." He exhaled a long breath. "There are many deaths, mostly civilians who didn't get out in time when the Kyuubi wrecked havoc on the civilian residential area.. The villagers won't take this standing down for long. Even the shinobi..."

His eyes trailed off Kushina to the small form nestled in her arms. Shima's face turned grim.

"They cannot know," she uttered her thoughts out loud, eyes coming to meet Fukasaku's.

"Yes. Revealing the location of the Kyuubi would be disasterous," he grasped Shima's hand in his, trying to calm his nerves. "Humans are dangerous in grief. Too easily driven by the hatred born from it. They might have suffered through having the Kyuubi in the village when sealed within Mito-sama and Kushina-chan. But that was before the beast had actually attacked the village. Knowing of the power a tailed beast holds and experiencing it unleashed on your home and loved ones first hand are two entirely different matters."

Shima gave him a squeeze. "They will look for someone to blame. A scapegoat to take out their loss on."

Fukasaku nodded grimly. "Kushina.. or the boy. None of whom I'd fancy seeing terrorized by their need for justice."

"We promised to keep them safe. We promised Minato-chan, Tou-chan."

The elder toad squeezed Shima's hand in return, a determination filling his eyes as they strayed once more towards the sleeping duo.

"And I will not go back on my word," he said resolutely.

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	11. Chapter 11

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

 **A/N** : Ok, turning serious again. Hopefully, the chapter isn't too gloomy. Things are happening and I'm trying to fit everything in appropriately and not screw too much with the current setting. Yet, somehow, I find myself writing more and more perspectives than I originally planned... Moving slowly here, try to bear with me.

Enjoy, this week's chapter! Yours, DR.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 11

 **.oOo.**

* * *

"How does it feel?"

"Like I'd rather have it sawed off," Kakashi said pointedly through grit teeth. "Thanks for asking."

A weak chuckle followed, a foreign sound coming from the woman that only hours before had been so terrified of him. Kakashi blamed his loss of intimidation on his current state, for who could really be afraid of the pitiful image he represented at the moment? The situation was made even more degrading and humiliating because he had to use the clearly exhausted woman as a crutch, her hand latching onto his side with shaking fingers, her arm curving around his back as they slowly made their way forward, crossing empty streets and fallen rubble.

Itachi, walking a few feet ahead of them, kept sending them concerned glances at regular intervals. The image would have been funny, seeing how the boy looked much like a parent while carrying a sleeping Sasuke and simultanously keeping an eye on them, funny indeed if Kakashi didn't know he was half of the reason why Itachi kept sneaking glances at them. Kakashi suppressed a groan. He would never live this down, Kakashi noted silently to himself. Somewhat relieved that none of his ANBU associates were here to see his pitiful sight.

He hissed as Mikoto slipped on a bit of gravel, causing their precarious, upright position to jerk sideways, jarring his leg in the process.

"Sorry."

Kakashi ignored the apology, instead fixing his gaze on the distant chuunin station. It was unmanned, of course. Most chuunins were in high demand around the Village doing tasks such as herding children and other helpless civilians to safety or passing streams of information from one section to another...

He winced, drawing another steadying breath to control the pain.

During the evening Kakashi had realized that making small, concrete goals helped his motivation. A habit he had never throught necessary before. Kakashi had always been the kind of ninja who worked himself to exhaustion on a regular basis. Never contenting himself with anything less than perfect preformance. His strong work ethic and residual guilt over his own past failures driving him to do so. Thus, there had never been a lack of will on his part before. But now, with his leg the way it was, Kakashi found he needed every ounce of encouragement just to drag himself another few feet in one direction.

It did not take long for him to feel Itachi's eyes burning into him again. The boy was like clockwork, but twice as scary with his perfectly timed intervals. His gaze pierced him with a bird-like precision. But it was nowhere near as intense as before, his sharingan long faded back into obsidian as the boy's chakra faltered. Kakashi knew the feeling, sensing a similar trickle of chakra being eaten up in his left eyesocket at a steady pace, even when Kakashi wasn't using the gifted orb. If maintaining a manifested sharingan took that much chakra normally, the teen couldn't blame the boy for relinquishing his hold on the bloodline trait. The things were damn chakra intensive! More so for him, since Kakashi didn't have the heritage to support it. Only the young ANBU's fairly large chakra reserves made it possible for Kakashi to keep it active, even if it was kept quiescent most of the time.

"We could stop and rest," Itachi offered, obviously conflicted about voicing his throughts to the elder shinobi.

"I'm fine-!"

Both Mikoto and Kakashi looked over at each other, the simultanous response was annoyed in nature, but somehow managed to draw weak, lopsided smiles on their faces. Kakashi quickly averted his gaze once he realized this, not really wanting to show his amusement. Especially not now when there was no longer any shield to hide behind as his facemask had long been damaged beyond repair.

Still, Kakashi had to admit he found the bit of amusement uplifting, what with the dreary surrounds they were in. A smile was already tugging on the other corner of his lips to even out the expression, but he squashed that notion back into the firm line his lips formerly were in. Features once more perfectly controlled.

They could make it.

He was sure of it.

Kakashi wasn't really that sure why he thought that way. But something about the unrelenting set to Mikoto's shoulders that had started at Itachi's words and the way fire, warm and unbending, sparked in Kakashi's veins at the mere suggestion that they show any sign of weakness must have something to do with it.

They were not going to take this lying down. Kakashi would not take this as defeat. If he had, he would have succumbed to the masked man at first glance. He would have given up in the first place, rather than fight the fiery chakra that surged around Kushina, desperately trying to speak some sense into the woman.

Kushina...

He hadn't seen the woman since she rushed off, her monsterous form fleeing over the rooftops without even a glance back in his direction.

Kakashi had failed his mission... _Again._

His mood darkened further.

If he could not manage to keep two women and two small children safe, how could he possibly be expected to protect a whole village? Of course, for a single shinobi to have such a huge impact on village defence was laughable. But, Kakashi did try to live up to his Sensei's expectations. Deep down inside, he feared being another disappointment more than anything else. Kakashi had already failed too many people to fail another.

Yet, he had succeeded at doing it again.

They trudged on.

"There's no one here," Itachi said softly as he peered through the grimy glass into the Chuunin station.

"We should have gone to the academy," Mikoto added.

"The hospital is closer." Kakashi knew the guilt the woman felt. Yet, he also expected the academy to have been sealed shut. The evacuation horn had already been silenced, which meant that the general entrances to the tunnels were sealed. He glanced towards the administration tower in the distance. The red building high in the crumbling skyline.

Had the attack been deemed to be over? Or had the higher-ups simply decided that there were none left to evacuate?

The lack of chakra signatures around them, even untrained ones of civilians, was apparent. The buildings, or what remained of them, mimicked a ghost town. Complexes of abandoned streets and lifeless housing. Only sharp prickles of chakra spread about by the patrolling shinobi moved through the chaos. None of which were near their location.

For a fleeting moment Kakashi pondered whether the evacuation had been successful? There was no doubt there had been many casualites. Many lives and families that had been touched by the destruction dealt that night...

The veiled sky above seemed to feel his sadness, its expance opening up and unloading its grief down on them. Soft rain splattered over their heads, drenching the last of fires lingering around the Village.

The four of them huddled together as they walked aimlessly. No longer sure which way was which as they tried to find medical attention. The fresh bandages wrapped around his leg were already staining red...

 _What would you do, Minato-sensei?_

That question continued to make itself known in his chest as they wandered. His eyes roving over stray cats left behind, huddled in corners or pressed up against walls of houses. Waiting for their missing owners or a kind hand to free them of the hell they had been placed into. Odd knick-knacks and things lay spread out in the street. A single doll lying on its back the only human-like face in sight.

 _What would you do?_

Kakashi felt he should be doing _something_ , he just couldn't figure out _what_.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Fukasaku's eyes cracked open where he sat on the leather sofa, perking to attention at the signatures approaching.

The second day since the Kyuubi attack was already ending, yet their charges were still very much a asleep, little Naruto-chan only waking to be fed bits of this and that they had been able to find inside the apartment before going back asleep. Fukasaku was an old toad, one with many children and many more grandchildren. But even he knew that babies and newborns especially could not survive on plain, heated milk for long.

If Kushina-chan didn't wake up soon, it might be too late altogether.

The chakras stopped abruptly outside the wall to the apartment. Their energies buzzing like static, but clearly hesitant in approaching the abode.

Fukasaku could understand their hesitance. One did not simply approach the home of a man devoted to the art of fuuinjutsu without a bit of caution. Such carelessness was often paid for with more than a limb or two. And knowing Minato-chan, the apartment probably had more active security seals than Konoha had active shinobi on duty. Sometimes, more vicious ones too.

A firm knock resounded against the front door. The sound hollow, echoing through the expanse of the livingroom.

Fukasaku waited, knowing that whoever the Sandaime had sent had specific orders. But if the shinobi outside had any self-preservation instincts, he would leave the door be until it was opened from the inside.

Sure enough, after administrating another two attempts, the knocking stopped and the chakra signatures disappeared back into the deepening night.

"Tou-chan?" Shima asked softly as she came silently into the livingroom.

"Sarutobi's messengers." He scoffed, moving off the couch to patrol the few windows in the apartment, seeing to it that curtains and blinds were still perfectly closed. The seals would protect against any of their chakra leaking outside and being detected. Their signatures smothered down, made unnoticeable with the help of the strong hum Minato's chakra-infused seals weaved over the very structure of the apartment. It was a smart concealment seal, one that nullified any excess chakra and kept out invasive ones. The only true reason any of them had been able to return to the home before Kushina at all, was because of the seals laid down specifically for Minato's summons. Anchoring their summoning seal to filter into the network as a portal of entry, meant summoning themselves inside the apartment became childsplay. A nifty trick, considering how only blood of Minato and Kushina specifically could transport themselves inside without the right patterned chakra key. "I should have expected the old man would start to move sooner or later."

"He is wise, sly but wise." Shima hopped up beside him, watching him warily as he peered out of the glass through a crack in the flowy, white fabric. "He's searching for Kushina. He has to be."

"If Sarutobi is in charge, they must have already confirmed Minato's sacrifice."

Shima hummed in agreement, wondering what the old Hokage must be thinking. Sarutobi Hiruzen had already given up his seat once and to have to step up as Hokage again so soon after the power transition should have him on his toes. He was not called the Professor for nothing. Sarutobi would be expecting some kind of backlash by now, from within or outside Konoha. That he is searching for the former Kyuubi container only confirmed it.

"He cannot find her." Fukasaku dragged a hand over his face. "As long as we stay here, there is minimal chance of discovery. If it were possible, I would have reverse summoned both of them back to Mount Myoboku. But you know that is not an option. Minato was our summoner, but Kushina has no link to our contract."

"Sooner or later, they will think her dead." Shima wrung her hands, just the thought of the young woman lying stone cold somewhere around Konoha left her in a bad mood. It reminded her all too much of how close Kushina had been to dying, had she not been there to heal the worst of the damage.

For the moment, the village thinking Kushina dead might be the best outcome they could aim for. Konoha needed to forget about Uzumaki Kushina. She was the sole, remaining link to the Kyuubi and anything that had something to do with the ninetails was in danger at the moment. She sighed, knowing that sometimes lying had its merits.

"Having the Kyuubi ripped out so violently would only strengthen that suspicion. A Jinchuuriki surviving losing its tailed beast is unheard of. It's a miracle Kushina-chan has survived as it is."

Fukasaku left the window, a contemplative frown on his face. He had never been one for planning, that had always been the Ogama-sennin's forte. He only followed up on the visions he had been told. But as hard as he tried, Fukasaku could not remember ever being informed of this twist in fate. Had the old one been holding back on them?

"I've contacted Jiraiya." Shima brightened at his words. "He's finishing up in Rain at the moment, which means there will go some time yet before his return. I sent one of the young ones to reverse summon him as soon as he's able to leave."

"Jiraiya-chan always knows what to do," Shima nodded in approval of his decision. The Toad Sage might be unreliable around women, but he was more than serious when it came to family. And Minato had been exactly that to him, even though they were teacher and student. It was a bond they valued more than bloodties and Minato's budding family had become an extension of his own. "Jiraiya will love the boy. He's so much like Minato-chan in appearance, its almost heartbreaking to see. But the fire of Kushina is within him as well."

Fukasaku laughed, a true and honest one despite its gravelly nature. "Yes, he needs to know now that he's a godfather. Minato would have liked Jiraiya to be present in the boy's life. Even more so now when Minato-chan himself can't watch over them."

"That he would."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

The sharp tinge to the air had him on edge, even if he was having trouble keeping his eyelids open. All around them, there was a loud hum of working people. Hospital staff rushing here and there. White dressed medic nin clearing away this and that to try and make more room for those who needed it.

There were no longer any hospital rooms available. All had been showed to simple cots along the floors as beds were no longer vacant.

Thankfully, the Konoha Hospital itself had been mostly unharmed by the recent events. With the threat on Konoha taken care of, the wounded streamed into the white-walled establishment. Adults sat silently as they tended simpler wounds. Children cried beside injured parents or siblings. A larger share of people waiting patiently to receive care while others demanded attention despite having only just arrived.

Every now and then, a stretcher or shinobi carrying wounded comrades needing emergency care rushed through the large door to the assembly hall. Each occasion would send murmurs flying between those present, wondering what happened and if the ninja in question would survive their extensive wounds.

Itachi satisfied himself with the knowledge that they were all safe. Or as safe as one could be considering the circumstances.

Kakashi had been carried off upon their arrival to get his leg tended to. The normally few-worded teen as pale as his ghostly hair. His mother had tried to reassure him afterwards that the young ANBU would be alright, but Itachi knew comforting lies when he saw them. The slight gleam to her eyes made it clear that she was fearing the worst. The amount of blood he had lost alone was worrying.

Their own injuries were simple in comparison, though Mikoto still fussed over him. Insisting to the stern faced nurse that they care for him and Sasuke first.

Itachi had been mostly unharmed, though his chakra reserves were dangerously low due to him keeping his sharingan activated for almost a day straight. Chakra exhaustion and regular tiredness made itself known as fast as they entered the hospital. The five-year-old quickly falling into an uneasy slumber while they waited for someone to take a look on them. What felt like days of rest had been less than hours in real life, leaving his limbs heavy and strangely powerless. As if the stress had kept them attentive and without it they were now prone to falling asleep all on their own instead.

The chakra replenishing pill he got from the medic did help with the worst of it. Which was the only real reason why Itachi was barely conscious at all at the moment.

The medic hissed upon seeing the blistering and crackled skin along Sasuke's back. Her questioning eyes only driving the guilt Mikoto felt in further.

"These are electricity burns," the medic said smoothly in that practiced, detached tone. Her experienced hands glowing green as she tried to numb the areas enough to clean and wrap them. The hospital was strained by the overload of patients seeking care and staff had been ordered to keep all chakra healing techniques down to a minimal and reserve chakra for more severe injuries. "It's only the first layer of skin, which will heal fine as long as there is no infection."

Air whooshed out of Mikoto's lungs in relief, her form slumping on the floor space they had been alotted for their stay. "But he will survive, won't he? He won't... be too affected by the wounds?"

It worried her that Sasuke was so silent, even when awake. It was unusual for the baby. Surely, pure exhaustion could not claim that piece of him as well? Sasuke had always been a lively child, in his own way. Well aware of how he had everyone close to him wrapped around his chubby, little finger.

"No. The chakra coils are deeper down and in a baby as young as he is, they are fairly undeveloped at this stage. There will be scarring, of course." She leveled Mikoto with a heavy gaze. "That is unavoidable considering the widespread nature of the burns, but they will fade with time."

Itachi's brow furrowed as he listened to their words. Understanding that there had been some kind of discussion about how the burns would affect his brother in the future, aesthetically but not physically. True, Itachi did worry about his brother's injuries, ever since sensing them back in the tunnel. It hurt. Because the prospect of Sasuke being exposed to any kind of pain or violence made his heart ache. It made Itachi feel inadequate in his role of brother. It was a great failure this early on in their brotherly bond for him to not have been able to protect Sasuke from being hurt.

Once again, Itachi cursed the masked man.

If not for him, none of his family would have been injured in the first place!

Both Uchihas watched in sufficating silence as the medic tended to the wounds, spreading antibacterial salve over the naked flesh in large amounts before wrapping it sealed with what looked like a crossbreed between thin, jelly-like net and sterile gauze, before covering it with a final layer of crisp, pristine bandages. So heavily wrapped up, most of the Sasuke's skin was hidden beneath the white, which left only his legs and arms uncovered.

"Remember to keep him warm and hydrated. Burns often leads to dehydration because of the lost barrier between flesh and air. I'll see to it that one of our younger apprentices supply you with enough babysupplies and water. Painmedication will be regulated but administrated at certain intervals so just wave them in when the nurses circulate the area." She raised her gaze to Mikoto. "And at the slightest sign of infection, send for me, understood?"

Mikoto nodded. Her hands adjusting Sasuke on the cot. Her worried eyes constantly straying to her children. The children that meant the world to her.

The medic watched the woman. Her face was pale and skin clammy. For an Uchiha, she wasn't looking so good. Which made her even more suspicious. The medic turned in her crouch, waving another nurse in. Uchiha were proud and stubborn creatures, after all. She would not put it past this one to downplay her injuries.

The fresh nurse, young with sandy blonde hair, soon stopped beside her.

"Fumi-san. Can I bother you with watching these children while I examine the mother?"

The nurse looked curiously between her superior and the rapidly paling Uchiha beside her. "Of course."

The medic smiled, a strained one that spoke of the unease she felt. "Wonderful. Now, if you could come with me for a moment, Uchiha-san?"

Mikoto's grip around Itachi's middle tightened and it made Itachi's reflexes highten in turn. He sent large, obsidian eyes up at her face. Seeing the carefully controlled strain there. The line that had started to deepen from forcing her face into a stiff grimace ever since the attack at the birth.

Mikoto's throat convulsed, dread filtering into her stomach as she tried to not give away too much of the pain that had made her stomach awfully sensitive to even her swallowing. Anything really that affected the muscles around the area.

The look in the medic's eyes told her she had no choice. Mikoto would have to submit or she would be forced to. So it was only a matter of time before she would have to give in sooner or later...

"Fine." Itachi blinked as her grip loosened around him. His mother's long hair brushing his shoulder before she pulled herself unsteadily to her feet. "I'll be right back, Itachi."

Itachi would have nodded, but the fake smile on her face stopped that motion and all he could do was stare in silence after her as his mother was led away through he crowd towards the more heavily equipped examination rooms.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Kushina groaned.

Every single part of her ached. Her heartbeat increasing from the pain. Yet, as her eyes opened to settle on bloodstained sheets she couldn't see the extensive injuries all the blood should have come from.

Instead, she saw the raw alternative of newly formed skin. Her normally pale complexion ranging from pink to angry red. Thick, smooth scar tissue covered the worst of the wounds visible. She lifted her fingers, the tips of them coming to rest on similar textures on her face. A jagged line marked out an edge where a scar melded with her right cheek.

She pushed hair out of her face, grimacing as she felt the naked parts of her scalp where some of it had been singed off. Much of the formerly long strands were shortened by the intense heat of the Kyuubi's chakra, leaving the remaining ends curled slightly.

"I'm a mess..." Kushina said with nonexisting humor, dry laugh rattling her sore throat. She felt like crying, but it wouldn't do anything to help her in her situation so Kushina pushed the stinging liquid back behind her eyes, forcefully calming her breathing.

Judging by the patches of smooth skin, Kushina concluded that her body did try its best to heal the damage dealt by the Kyuubi's chakra. Her Uzumaki life-force was strong in that way, but there was no doubt in her mind that even her increased healing-abilities were too slow this time to fully repair the damage the Kyuubi's fox cloak had done on her body.

She bit her lower lip in bitterness, feeling the sensitive flesh start to bleed again.

If there was something good about the fox, it was that its presence sped up her healing even further. Kushina never had to suffer any scars before, as the Kyuubi's chakra always made even the smallest of wounds and scratches disappear fully without a trace. Now, it seemed, Kushina had to experience the ugly side of her vocation like every other Shinobi did.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Kushina."

Her head snapped to the other side of the room at the rough voice, eyes unbelieving while, at the same time, her heart eased some of its worry hearing it. "Jiraiya-san."

"I thought we put titles and such behind us years ago when you revealed me to be spying on the women's section at the hot springs?" He bent forward in the chair to to lean his forearms on his knees. That cascade of wild, white hair rustling with the shift over one shoulder. "Though, that henge couldn't possibly have counted as a good disguise, I admit."

Kushina's lips quirked at the memory and it felt good to know that a piece of that same fiery redhead still remained beneath that changed exterior. Sad, dark eyes took in the change that had taken place. The woman once known for her exotic beauty only seen in Whirlpool genetics looked like an altered version of herself. Her long, crimson hair no longer fell in a silky waterfall down her form, but was chopped short in places, singed beyond repair in others and curled too look like a particularly bad experiment-gone-wrong in hairdressing.

Jiraiya knew, of course, from the recounts Shima had told him of Kushina's initial appearance that this was a great improvement. But he still found it hard to look at the patchy skin. Some places left untouched, other's healed into thick, pink scarring. Not even her face had been left untouched, though it was perhaps the worst affected area. Her skin was mostly pink now, leaving only a thin, sweeping line of milky white skin from two thirds of her forehead, down her right cheek and reaching lower still on the side of her neck.

He supposed, that if you squinted hard enough, it looked like a bad sunburn. That is if one disregarded the thin scars lining her temple and left jaw... But the facial bonestructure beneath still gave the impression of her former beauty.

To think that one day could change a woman that much yet the inside remained much the same...

 _You chose a strong woman, Minato. Kushina had to be, to be able to handle the Kyuubi. But even now, without that pressure looming over her she still stands strong._

Kushina pulled herself up into a sit, the blankets and sheets slipping off her form causing Jiraiya to hastily avert his eyes towards the much safer subject of a small, tree-shaped hanger in the corner of the room, a present Jiraiya had bought the couple on one of his travels. Yet, he still found his cheeks heating with embarassment for himself and the situation he had put himself in.

Jiraiya gave a sharp cough, trying to mask his obvious discomfort, hoping the woman would take the hint. Because although Jiraiya had inspected the damage done to her body while Kushina was asleep, it was a different matter altogether to oogle her now when she was fully conscious. Jiraiya might be a ladies man, but he was above leering at vulnerable women. This was Minato's wife, for heavens sake!

His _family._

"Where's Naruto?" came Kushina's confused voice and he heard the shift of the sheets as she wrapped them around her.

 _Ah, so she noticed then._

"Shima's got him. I bought some formula on my way here and the little sucker has been greedily eating for the last half hour." He slid his eyes back over but shook his head seeing the woman openly grope at her covered breasts in disbelief. Jiraiya sighed, a long and weary one. "I didn't really come to grips with all the details, but Shima said something about the stress shutting down the milk factory. They've been feeding him ordinary milk for days, but the lack of nourishment must have left him hungry. Not the same, is it? Human and cow's milk," he said with a wiggle of his brows.

In hindsight, he probably should have expected the brush that was thrown at him. Kushina really had a good arm in a pinch!

"Unnecessary!" she growled, before pushing herself up on her feet. She wavered for a moment, before she finally regained control of her balance.

"Good to see you still have some fight left in you, Kushina." His smile faded a fraction, his face growing more and more serious now that her attention had shifted off him. He never liked being the focus of her ire. Kushina was very much like Tsunade in that way. It had to be the common Uzumaki temper.

"I really didn't know what to expect once I heard the news. If Fukasaku hadn't sent for me..." Jiraiya shook his head to abort his thoughts. He didn't wish to think of 'what if's. His mind and heart were already too deep with regret thinking, 'what if' he had been here a bit earlier? What if Minato had sent for him before it was too late? Would his student still be alive then? Could Jiraiya somehow have prevented this whole thing from happening?

Jiraiya had yet to meet up with his sensei, knowing the old man would think it suspicious to find him in the village without any prior notice. Their regular correspondence had not let on that he would return to Konoha anytime soon, and doing so now would only make it all too easy for him to put two and two together. Jiraiya gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, feeling a headache approaching. He really hated decieving his sensei and father figure, but he had to. For if what Fukasaku and Shima had been telling him was correct than there were more lives than his hanging in the balance. Lives that could be affected by the very choices he made...

He could worry about Konoha and his sensei's guilt-inducing stare later. Now, he needed to concentrate on Kushina and his godson. The two individuals in the world that need him more than anything.

Jiraiya knew what it was like to live alone in the world, before he found family in the makeshift team he had been placed on. He learned early on how it felt to loose someone and experience events beyond your control. He would not allow either Kushina or little Naruto suffer the same consequences. Not if he could avoid it!

"I want you to take it easy, Kushina. You need rest and time to recover. Not everyone go through a bloody birth _and_ a tailed beast extraction on the very same day."

"You heard about that, huh?"

Jiraiya frowned, finding her ashamed words worrying. He realized the redhead probably blamed herself for the Kyuubi being set free. But really, the extenuating circumstances were less than favorable at the time. Just giving birth was sure to push the seal beyond its limits! Jiraiya had conferred with Minato on the subject for months prior to the birth. Their mutual worry that the seal would be unable to go through such strain had seemed justified at the time and had very much scared even Jiraiya. But more so, he hated himself for being right in his initial assumptions, yet he hadn't done enough to prevent it. Sometimes, he really envied Tsunade and her famous bad luck!

Still, if Minato had been able to monitor the seal properly before and after the event, a newly sprung-free bijuu wouldn't have been a problem. The equation had been made even more complicated with the addition of a previously unknown variable.

None of them could have predicted that someone would attempt _and_ then succeed to break through their numerous safety measures. Kushina would have been least to blame out of the group of people involved. Just because she was the kyuubi's jailor didn't mean she had the power to control every bit of the events that had unfolded that night. It was just sad that the woman was too stubborn to see it.

"Minato didn't relay much about what happened during the attack, Kushina. But it's not hard to deduce that something went seriously wrong. Something that none of us could have planned for... Security should have been top notch. The location hidden and kept under wraps until after the birthing had been completed and the seal stabilized. That was the agreement between Minato and Sarutobi-sensei."

"Yet, someone still spilled the beans," her voice shook with emotion, a clear stance of defiance as she stood watching in the half-open doorway. Her baby was safe, being fed with a bottle by the elder amphibian and under her wise, watchful eyes. "Someone had to, Jiraiya. Nobody knew I was in labour. Minato used the hiraishin to move us over to the facility so that we wouldn't attract attention in Konoha. There was no way anyone could have known what was happening that morning."

She gripped her stomach. Her newly healed fingertips digging into the flesh underneath the sheet where a seal had once marked her. Now, only the ghostly whispers of ink Minato had laid down remained. A last smudge of his life on hers.. Almost desperately, Kushina tried to fill the aching hole there. To think that she would one day miss having that heated ball of energy anchored deep in her belly! That not being able to feel the seal and the chakra it regulated would leave her feeling this empty and alone.

But she was.

Kushina was alone in the world. The Kyuubi had been ripped from her and she had been left cold in the dust. With Minato gone to the afterlife, Kushina was left with only a handful of people she could trust. A small consolation when up against the mass of people that would want her punished for her failure too keep the calamity she harboured locked away.

It was all a frightening concept for her and now she had to face it all with a newborn infant to take care of to boot!

Suffice to say that all the lingering instincts the ninetails had instilled in her were running amook in her bloodstream, screaming at her to seek out cover and safety for herself and her offspring. She was in Konoha, a place that should be nothing but safe for the both of them, yet Kushina found herself doubting that conviction. For could she ever look upon the village with anything but guilt? And could the village ever forgive her for what she had unleashed on them?

"Was there anything out of the ordinary?" Jiraiya asked carefully, seeing the way her jaw had clenched tight. "It's hard to believe that the enemy would simply manage to pop into existance from thin air in an ANBU secured location."

Kushina frowned, her eyes darknening as she thought of it.

The guards had been killed. But the guards themselves hadn't known anything about the location before Minato had brought them there and they hadn't left the area once during the birth. The same went for the medics and Lady Biwako.

Her eyes closed at remembering the woman, but she soon swallowed past the lump intent on lodging itself in her throat.

"Kakashi.." she said softly, her eyes still unable to face the world as her heart started to make painful connections Kushina hadn't thought off before. Jiraiya startled at the name, but remained silent, waiting for her to gather her thoughts on Minato's sole living student. "I.. sent Kakashi away mid-birth to fetch Mikoto. I _needed_ her, Jiraiya. I wouldn't have been able to pull through without her support," she reasoned seeing his darkening countanance. His strong arms crossing before him as he stood and paced the room threateningly.

In that moment, there was no question that the man was one of the legendary Sannin. Jiraiya exhuded power. A presence only standing on battlefields stained with the blood of hundreds gave you. Kushina would often shout at, scold and reprimand the man. God, the world knew the Toad Sage could test her patience at the best of times. But contrary to the laughing and playful visage Jiraiya so often displayed while off duty, this one was completely serious. A perfectly honed blade, ready to lash out at the smallest hint of danger to the things he cared about; women, family and Konoha.

Last Kushina saw him like this was at the strategic, on field, war council Konoha held at the end of the Third Shinobi War. When Konoha was finally about to finish the last opposition Iwa presented before calling for peace and the end of that dreadful war. To end years of warring and bloodshed. Kushina had been a mere soldier in the ranks then, not even close to Jiraiya the Sannin and his successor, Minato, who were an intricate part of the leaf's defense and strategic mind.

Kushina had barely spoken any words to Minato during the war beyond exchanging opinions at the regular meetings. The two of them only knew each other from their encounters before the war. When her kidnapping had set the stage for the feelings they would one day harbour for each other.

Back then, she had been dead tired yet wishing to keep up a strong facade. Kushina was the new Jinchuuriki, after all.

Kushina had only seen them as heros. Could only admire the strength, sharp mind and wise calls the duo made between the relentless arguments of the opposing sides.

A small piece of her secretly wishing that some day, she too would be able to exhude such an aura...

Jiraiya turned sorrowful eyes on her, breaking her thoughts.

"The Uchiha, you say," his voice low and oddly tense. As if there was any particular reason why that particular piece of information should have warrented such a guarded response. It set the small, soft hairs along the back of Kushina's neck on end. "And where is _Uchiha_ Mikoto now?"

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	12. Chapter 12

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 12

 **.oOo.**

* * *

She screamed into the bit of cloth that had been forced into her mouth. Sweat pooled at her temples and hairline as she tried to bite back the pain. She had known what to expect once the medic dragged her off. But nothing could have prepared her for the manual extraction of the shards, and without as much as a hint of painrelief!

"Hush. You don't want to scare your children do you? Offspring have very acute hearing, they're very attuned to hearing distress calls of family members, parents especially."

Mikoto panted. The sound muffled as air ripped in and out through her nostrils.

Due to the depleting stock of medical supplies, many drugs had been rationed. Leaving more then a few operations that did not require deep anestesia to work with lesser, cheaper variants. Her head lolled to one side. Shoulders straining but not budging under the firm hold of the other medics in the room.

Her breath hitched as another sharp stinging sensation started in her abdomen, the edge of the scalpel unforgiving as it widend the cut.

"Shouldn't we just knock her out?" One of the assisting medics asked, wondering what made the older medic take such drastic measures. Working under local anesthesia was nothing new, but to have the patient go through the painful process off retieving the shards while awake when it was so obviously distressing was simply foolish. His eyes slid over towards the locked cupboard where he knew they stored the morphine, the bottles already ridiculously empty after tending the great influx of patients.

"She's an Uchiha. She has higher pain tolerance than most." The sole reason that she had been up and moving until now confirmed that. The medic had never seen a civilian move around for hours with a likely lacerated bowl _and_ internal haemorrhaging before.

With another sharp clang, a stone fragment as wide as a finger but sharp as a kunai's edge dropped into the stainless steel bowl. She had stopped the bleeding with the help of chakra earlier. The trickling fluid had blocked her vision through the small incision and made her assesment of the small intestine even harder. Satisfied that the opening was large enough, she used her gloved hand to reach inside, the friction painful as it already rubbed against the Uchiha's irritated abdomen wall, stretching the tissue as the medic's fingers pushed the cloth swab around to soak up the liquid.

The Uchiha's body straightened with every small touch, muscles tensing and causing her chest to arch upwards. A futile attempt at getting away from her probing fingers. The assisting medic monitoring her pulse made a distressed sound, adjusting one of the many wires attached to her arms. "Her bloodpressure's dropping. The pain and hypotension is sending her into chock."

The first medic made a disgruntled sound at the annoyance and watched down into wide obsidian eyes. The whites showing as Mikoto's eyes verged on rolling back into her skull.

She grit her teeth.

"Fine. Murakumo, prepare the syringe."

There was a short time of confusion around her before the cloth was yanked from her mouth. Mikoto gasped, drawing gulps of air but the respite was shortlived. Her mouth and nose smothered by strong smelling fabric. Something sharp stabbed at the soft skin of her elbow. Her eyes fought the pull, but slowly closed until she was certain she had fainted fully.

The painfree existance was a relief. Even if the dark that surrounded her was not.

Never had her claustrophobia been as strong as now and Mikoto struggled to regain control of her limbs. It was hard, though, for she was powerless. A strong grip holding her tight, blocking her airways.

"No..."

" _Yes_ ," a voice purred and her eyes opened to stare at a singular red orb. It was with horrification that she watched the three tomoes in it lengthen, forming until it resembled that of a hastily spinning windmill. Black contrasting with red, drawing her in. The masked man leaned in, close enough that she could feel his bodyheat rub up against her. A long-drawn breath sent her tingling as fear laced her naked skin. For that was how she felt, naked and vulnerable. This powerful entity brushed her conscience and his mere presence threatened to make her heart stop.

His dark chuckle reverberated through the darkness. Her body jolting once she realized he could support her full weight with a single hand.

Mikoto's eyes fell shut, oxygen leaving her system yet it did not stop those final words from wrecking havoc on her mind.

" _You will remember this day."_ The words slithered like a poisonous snake, wrapping itself tightly around her. Daring her to protest. To fight back. Dripping fangs bared as they scraped against her shivering skin. _"The day when Uchiha Madara had his revenge."_

Itachi startled awake, his body automatically preparing itself for confrontation as he reached for the sole kunai he had within his possession. His heart pounded, yet nothing seemed amiss. His brother was sleeping, his mother still lying deathly pale against the sheets she had been placed upon hours before.

He rubbed at his eyes, wondering what had forced him out of his slumber.

Yet, when Itachi looked around himself, he found the reason. The intense stare of a man, stocky but none the less muscular. Hair short cropped, with brown eyes matching his similarly coloured hair. There was nothing really threatening about the man, but the mere image of him was what set Itachi off.

 _Too plain,_ thought Itachi as he gathered himself.

The man's gaze did not avert nor did it lessen in intensity. If anything, it only seemed to grow _stronger_. Its focus fixed on them. Itachi reached for his mother's hand, adjusting her arm around Sasuke. She was less cold now. Whatever had been done to her in the examination room had made her sicker. But the medics had assured him she would get better. The smiling blonde nurse that had been stationed to check up on them every now and then continued to give hopeful promises. But Itachi didn't want more empty words.

He wished for his mother to wake up. For his father to return and bring them all back home. To be able to sleep in his own bed, uncaring of what went on around him and to not have to worry so much about everything.

"I want to go home, Kaa-san.." he murmured, low enough that nobody else would hear him, but still out loud in hopes that his uttered wish would somehow come true. Itachi knew that there was no such thing like magic in the word. Only harsh reality. But at this point, even he was willing to try...

It was then that Itachi noticed the sudden swish of white and red in the distance. Pristine robes that anyone would recognize from a mile away moved in their direction. To say Itachi was surprised to see the Hokage skulking about in the hospital was an understatement. Perhaps he was looking for someone?

After all, the last Itachi saw of the blonde Yondaime had made it seem reasonable for the man to be here. He had given the image of a man who cherished his loved ones and his people. So it wouldn't be strange for the Yondaime to be around searching for one individual or another. Though, Itachi always thought it would be easier the other way around, since the Hokage was usually less hard to find in a crowd.

It wasn't until the shape drew close enough in the great hospital aula for Itachi's eyes to be able to tell his exact features that Itachi realized that it was not, in fact, the Yondaime under the robes. But an old man, one Itachi had only seen once or twice when he was little and from a great distance as well.

 _What is the Sandaime Hokage doing going about wearing the formal robes?_

The Hokage robes were reserved for the head of the Village, as it was the official clothing together with the kage hat that all kages wore at large meetings or official events. His eyes narrowed. If the Sandaime was wearing them now, it could only mean that he had somehow retaken the position as ruling head of the Village.

Itachi's face fell as the logical conclusions settled in his mind.

So that's why he hadn't seen the Yondaime around then. Why Itachi hadn't spotted Kushina-san running around either... He clenched Mikoto's hand more firmly. Silently willing the pain and startling amount of grief away. Itachi might not have known the blonde Hokage very well, but Itachi had interacted with Kushina on more than one occasion. The red-haired woman was warm and bright. So much more than many in their clan. She was his mother's best friend and Itachi understood why, for he too gravitated towards similar traits in Shisui. A light to brighten the daily gloom of the Uchiha clan.

And now it was gone.

He rubbed at his nose, realizing that he had forgotten about the more pressing problem at hand and raised his head, discreetly peeking for the man that had stared at them previously. But the male was gone – _vanished_. Itachi searched the aula, but found no trace of him.

Odd.

The man leaned against the wall in the nearby hallway. Body tense as he waited for the Hokage to pass through the throng of people, spirits passively encouraged by the man's mere presence. As soon as the Sandaime left, however, his shoulders sagged with relief.

 _That was close..._

He was tempted to wipe at the sweat he could sense at the back of his neck, but refrained from doing so. It would not do to raise suspicions. Sarutobi-sensei had a knack for knowing when he was doing something he disapproved of. A trait that had managed to prevent many disasters where the young sennin was concerned.

Jiraiya frowned under his guise. The henge was a simple bend of his own characteristics, small adjustments that would work with him and not against him. Adapting to his body language and keeping his actions from seeming too strange in this new appearance. Jiraiya was confident in espionage, but the white-haired shinobi had never needed to apply those skills inside his own village before. Even less so in order to avoid the attentions of those close to him.

He slid his eyes over towards the part of the room where he had found his current target.

The woman was defenseless. Knocked out, probably, by drugs administred by the hospital staff. Grabbing her would not be a problem...

The security at the hospital was concentrated along the outside of the building, focusing on the main entrance and exits. No one feared anything happening from the inside. The long trained security drills always concentrated on securing the key points of the Village; the Administrative Tower, the shelters and the Konoha Village Hospital. And the easiest way to guard all those mentioned was to secure the village perimeter, that is, the village wall.

But even with the raised security level around Konoha, it posed no threat to a man of his caliber. Because a man of Jiraiya's power could easily slip in and out unnoticed, as long as he didn't raise too much of a commotion.

No. The greatest threat to his plan would be the small bodies attached to the woman side.

His eyes softened seeing the children clinging onto their mother's form. The eldest of the pair had to be the Uchiha clan heir. He was a bit older than Jiraiya remembered the boy to be. But then again, it had been a long time since he last stayed in the village long enough to have any interaction with the Uchiha clan. Truth be told, that Itachi was here at all and not holed off in one of the secure, underground Uchiha safehouses was what shocked him the most. It seemed inconcievable that anyone would drag children out into the frey when the Kyuubi was about, even less so when it was the coveted children of the Uchiha Clan Head.

 _The Uchiha Clan must be in shambles,_ he thought dryly.

That clan liked to hoard away their talented young geniuses almost as much as they liked to flaunt them. It was a dangerous habit, one that would one day get them in grave trouble, Jiraiya was sure of it.

They were probably searching for Mikoto and her children while working under the image of securing the village. He knew the Uchiha Military Police was an institusion founded to secure and control the increasingly large civilian population in the village. He had seen a few of them working on keeping order around the village on the way here. But Jiraiya would not put it past them to use their position as law enforcers to hunt for the ellusive woman.

 _Fugaku, for one, is sure to raise hell about this later._

Jiraiya resisted the irritation that bubbled up inside him. Knowing that allowing his emotions to affect him now would only be counterproductive.

The village and the Uchihas were already standing on thin ice with each other. If anything sparked from this incident, it was sure to make the fragile good will between them even less stable. Still, there was no point in skirting the edges anymore. Anything Jiraiya did now was bound to happen sooner or later. However things played out after this...

Or so he kept telling himself.

His reaffirming thoughts still didn't stop the guilt that sprouted in his chest catching those guarded obsidian eyes, though.

Uchiha Itachi truly was on another level.

It was not that he doubted the boy's genius. No, that clan of his had spat out more talented kids than it had produced able-bodied shinobi. For another one to pop up was not strange. More than a few hopefulls had been hindered in their growth, however, by the increasing pressure put on them as children. Always striving for the top, only to fall before they actually reached there. Itachi was simply another one slowly adapting under their increasing demands for perfection. It was simply a matter of time before the boy would crack under it.

Jiraiya's thin lips curled downwards.

He never did like the way the village drove children to far too early graves during the war, but the situation had not made it possible to change it. But now, when there was less need for instantanuous shinobi breeding, the children finally had the time to slowly cultivate and grow into their roles and strenghts. All clans had slowly but surely seen this, focusing instead on nurturing the new generations into becoming so much stronger, now that their bodies had the time to grow into their new found roles.

Yet the Uchiha still persisted.

"Who are you?"

"Take it easy, kid." He raised his hands in a peaceful sign as he stopped before the trio on the floor, he didn't mean to cause trouble.

Itachi shifted before him, blocking him fully. "Why? Why do you single us out?"

He was tired. He had had enough of enemies and everything about this man spoke of danger. Like a blaring horn of warning, Itachi felt the controlled chakra curling beneath the man's flesh. His own nonexistent in comparison. The young Uchiha missed the clarity his sharingan gave him, for he felt that something was very wrong about this man. The edges of his form seemed too clean, too inconspicous. And with a jolt Itachi realized that nobody else seemed to even notice him there. Their gazes piercing straight through him, unable to register his presence.

"Look, kid." Jiraiya's voice lowered, which only set the boy more on edge. Jiraiya never did handle kids very well. Minato had been well over ten-years-old when he got him to train. Hell, little Naruto was still a baby and _that_ scared him. But that too was more of a lack of understanding rather than true fear. But Itachi... This boy's eyes questioned every word and move he made, and it was what sent his senses haywire. It was as if the Uchiha's ears were trained on the fragments of truth in his words and could easily distinguish every lie that slipped from his lips. "I have places to be and things to do that have nothing to do with you. So step aside and everything will be over in a second, alright?" He grumbled.

Jiraiya took the kunai rushing towards him as his answer and countered the blow by twisting past it, long muscled arms flexing until his spread palm closed over the boy's upper face. Frightened eyes peered back at him through his thick fingers.

The _thwunk_ of the kunai embedding in the nurse station behind him unwittingly dulled the soft sound of his shunshin.

The air twisted violently as Jiraiya dragged the trio with him. An invading flow of turbulent chakra forced Itachi to heave the meager contents of his stomach to the ground once it dug into his knees. The ground lay firm beneath his body, but was still spinning. As if his mind could not catch up to the sudden stop in rotation.

Itachi coughed, the burning bile still stained the back of his throat.

"Sorry about that, kid."

Obsidian eyes blinked up at him. The ruffled appearance the boy gave off causing a corner of Jiraiya's lips to twitch.

Itachi pushed up on shaky legs, finding balance after a moment of swaying. The destruction they had escaped hours before surrounded him again and Itachi almost groaned at the sight. The man who had brough him there was not idle however. Bending down and hoisting his mother's still unconscious form over one broad shoulder. Hands raising to lock firmly around her lower back.

Itachi found it strange how the larger man's shoes emitted a clacking sound even though the sandals obviously lacked any hard material that could cause such a thing.

"Wait!" Itachi called as he realized that the man had started to walk away from them. Itachi quickly snatched Sasuke off the ground, his feet hurrying as he tried to catch up.

"Keep up, kid. If you know what's good for you.. Or go back to the hospital. Your clansmen will find you sooner or later." Itachi frowned, panting as his chakra exhaustion made itself known once more, the increased movement drawing more on his petering reserves as Itachi pushed small amounts of the energy into his leg muscles to boost his pace. Jiraiya watched him through dark brown bangs. Wondering for how long the boy would be able to keep that trick up. He found Itachi's resolve admirable. The kid was obviously running out of energy, yet he insisted on forcing his way.

"You.. know.. of me," Itachi grit out between his pants. Taking in the way the mans steps quieted down to nothing, Itachi mirrored him by silencing his own. Pausing when the man called for a halt with a raise of his hand.

"There are few in the village that escape my notice, little Uchiha," Jiraiya said quietly, eyes watching the shinobi that crossed the street further down, obviously patrolling the area. The sennin cursed, he thought that he'd masked the area well enough with genjutsu on his way to the hospital to steer the patrols off. But apparently some still slipped through the net. It made his plan more difficult. Then again, a bit of hardship had never scared Jiraiya off before. "Keeping track of people is kind of my job."

Itachi's large eyes peered up at him, with wonder or fright, Jiraiya didn't care to determine. He was much too focused on making it to Minato's flat undetected to discern such things.

Itachi observed with great fascination as the man drew a intricately inked paper slip out of his supply pouch. His chakra flaring for a split-second before their surroundings blurred somewhat, a great sense of secrecy falling over them. As if some kind of veil had been pulled up over them, shrouding their presence.

Strong fingers closed over his shoulder, forcing his chakra control to sputter out from the dull pain. He did not resist the pull, allowing the man to drag him close, almost pressing him into his leg.

"The jutsu is more seamless the smaller the area to be concealed is," he whispered, barely audible to Itachi's ears. "Move when I do, and don't even think of trying anything funny."

The patrolling shinobi turned at the shift in air, eyes peering past the shadows. There was nothing there but the hollow remains of a caved in landing. A bit of crushed pottery in the street, the plants lying astray, leaves going yellow from the lack of water and affectionate attention. He doubted anyone would return for them anytime soon. The district had been one of the more damaged ones, even if some of the buildings had been left untouched.

He grit his teeth against the anger that bubbled up at the thought of how much the Kyuubi had done. The amount of damage a single night had caused...

He gripped the kunai that had been in his hand constantly since he started his shift. Muscles ready to pounce at the smallest hint of lurking danger.

Yet every day seemed the same. The shifts turned, becoming more and more a way of passing time while the village agonizingly slow recovered. He was lucky his wife and child had survived the destruction.

Others had not been so fortunate.

He cast a glance at his patrol leader, watching him perch on the wooden post further down the street. The same blank expression that had settled there on the tenth had not faded. His eyes now empty, save for the strong grief in them. Eyes set on the stony face of the Yondaime, engraved into the guarding mountain side, which lay appropriately drenched in the fiery light of sundown. Enacting the stern expression the hero must have had while facing the Kyuubi before it was finally vanquished.

That one man could defeat such monsterous odds was truly a miracle. Even if it had ultimately cost the Yondaime his life... The chuunin felt resolution fill him again as he straightened. Determined to keep up his vigilance for another quiet night, another restless watch over silent streets and lost memories...

Itachi followed the small jerks on his shoulder, always keeping in step with the man. Even when the sudden climb started to wear on him, he followed the silent directions. Steering him somewhere he did not know.

He didn't understand were he was leading them, for the man seemed to drag them further into the abandoned residential area.

 _Why would anyone go out towards the abandoned outskirts, when most of the help was in the central parts of Konoha?_ Then again, this man hardly needed any help. There wasn't a single scratch on him, and if Itachi was to go by the brimming chakra reserves the man sported, he was hardly strained by the recent events.

Which made Itachi wonder _why_ the man had sought them out in the first place.

It wasn't until they reached a sole, green door on the top floor of a multistorey apartment building, which stood unfazed by the destruction around them, that Itachi realized why.

The large man ran his fingers over the wood, his chakra tuning onto the particular pattern buzzing over the surface for a moment before he knocked. The sound was heavy in the otherwise silent area. A single tap was all that was needed before there was a sound on the other side, slightly muffled, but audible still. The locking devices and chakra networks shifted soundlessly before the door opened inwards.

Itachi's breath stilling as surprised obsidian met tired blue.

The man would not consider his current state of shock, however, as Itachi was forcibly shoved inside. The door closing and safety mechanisms falling back into place.

"Itachi-!" The call of his name rocked him as much as the weight crashing into him as he was assaulted by whisps of wild, red hair. The strands stood out at odd angles, so different from the normally silky cascade.

She pulled away, eyes watering. "You're alright, dattebane! And Sasuke-chan, too."

Kushina-san took the baby from his arms, checking them over. It seemed strage to him. As if a pocket of time had opened and a strong sense of normalcy fell around him once more. Kushina was _home_ , as much as his mother and father was. As much as the soothing jasmine scent that permeated his house whenever she and his mother was near. Itachi inhaled slowly, feeling a weight drop off his thin shoulders he didn't know he was carrying. Making him feel almost ten times lighter..

"I can't believe you found them, Jiraiya."

Itachi's eyes grew wide, snapping from the redhead to the man who lugged the weight he carried onto the sofa.

A shift of chakra was all it took and Itachi found himself staring open-mouthed as the man's stocky appearance bled into red, white overpowering his youthful brown hair and the strands quickly lengthening to fall down to his waist in untamed spikes. Strong, bold features molded his face, his eyes sharpening and streeks of red painting themselves like bloody tears down his cheeks. But what Itachi found himself staring at the most was not the overly confident face, nor the gaudy outfit. But the solid wood geta that decorated his feet.

"That's the sound," he blurted out, unable to hinder the childish impulse to claim he was right from leaving his surprised lips.

"Oh, these," the man said with audible pride. "Fitting, aren't they? For a man of my prestige! Ha ha!"

Kushina sighed as she watched Jiraiya fall back into the routine of presenting himself as the one and only Toad Sannin, Super Pervert of Konoha. She never knew why the man insisted on it. Itachi looked more shocked than impressed. For some reason Kushina had a hunch the genetic Uchiha stoicness would not give Jiraiya the respons he craved.

True enough, she watched Jiraiya's smile dim as the young Uchiha only blinked owlishly at him. As if the action would somehow wipe away the sight of the strange looking ninja. The image Itachi presented was very much like Kakashi's when he brushed something off, drawing a giggle out of her as she watched Jiraiya visibly deflate before her eyes.

"The young ones these days don't understand," the sannin bemoaned.

"Oh, stop your complaining." A solid whack to the back of Jiraiya's head made the sennin jerk. The webbed hand was still raised in threat, but Jiraiya's once again serious demeanor ascertained the elder toad that another hit was unnecessary. Fukasaku sighed, inwardly wondering what he had done to deserve such impertinent summoners. He peered back towards the sofa, where Shima was perched atop the sleeping woman's chest.

"She's alive. Under heavy sedation, but alive."

Kushina frowned, pushing forth as she crouched down beside the unconscious woman. "Mikoto.."

She ran a hand though Mikoto's hair, smoothing the strands back. They were still dirty and Kushina could see hints of other injuries. For a moment, she felt ashamed for not remembering the other woman until after the event. She and Kakashi had fallen into battle almost instantly after the attack and had, somewhere down the line, forgotten about the rest of them. Kushina could only thank fate for allowing all of them to make it out alive from the tunnel.

Jiraiya watched on warily. His strong arms crossed as he stood a few feet off.

Clearly, Kushina cared for the woman, which was understandable. They were former teammates, members of the same genin squad after one of the original members had been killed in action. Looking out for one another had been drilled into their system, and very rightfully so. Death changed a person. But Jiraiya never imagined that the bond between the two girls to have become this strong. Still, Mikoto was not the girl that had been so lively and free back then. Jiraiya had seen the pair around Konoha. Well before his own student started taking an interest in Kushina.

They had taken different routes in life.

Mikoto was too tangled up with Fugaku and the Uchiha clan to be deemed safe. And a situation such as the Kyuubi attack was more than suspicious. He had brought her here himself, to see if he could get anything useful out of her. Through all his careful calculations, Mikoto was the only link that seemed weak. The only part in the plan that had not been accounted for... _Something_ was forcing its way, willingly or unwilling. And Uchiha Mikoto was one of the keys to unlocking its identity.

"I know what you're thinking," Kushina said sharply and Jiraiya raised a brow at the irritation in her tone. "You're just like everybody else. Looking for the most probable source. But I _know_ Mikoto. She would never betray me. Never."

"You don't know that." Jiraiya ran a hand through his hair, wondering when Kushina would stop being so naïve. She had lived as the kyuubi's container. She, if anyone, should have learned to be suspicious of people and their intentions. He sighed at the denial he could see set on Kushina's face, the stubborn perch of her shoulders. Winning an argument with Kushina was like pulling out you own teeth, slow and painful. Bound to give him a headache, no matter what stance he took. "Not everyone have good intensions, Kushina. Mikoto-san might not be the one pulling the strings, but there is something that binds her to the events."

"My mother would never do something to hurt Kushina or Konoha."

Both adults turned to the child behind them. Itachi's hands were balled up by his sides. His eyes focused, as if trying to control himself.

"Kaa-san.. Kakashi-san made it seem important. We were about to eat and Kaa-san was cooking dinner when he came. We didn't even know what was happening or _where_ before it was too late!"

"I'm sorry, Itachi-chan." Kushina moved over to him, pulling the boy close. "I'm not doubting your mother or your clan."

"Well I do," Jiraiya said gruffly, standing his ground. "You know the situation they're in, Kushina. The Uchiha don't own many favors as it is. It would be just their thing, to start something as stupid as this."

Itachi recoiled at the harsh tone. Wondering whatever he and his clan had ever done to deserve such treatment. Kushina pulled him closer, unwittingly shielding him a bit from the elder shinobi's gaze.

"The Uchiha are trying to live under the pressure placed on them." Her eyes slid over towards her best friend. Knowing, from their many talks, just how bad the situation of the Uchiha clan was. She knew, that if it wasn't for her friendship with Mikoto, that she would be equally oblivious to it. But, as she had this inside source, she could not doubt the fear that Mikoto seemed to feel regarding the clan and its place in the Village. "They are trying their hardest. Envy and pride are hard things to counteract. But trust me when I say that they _do try_ to fight it."

At least, Mikoto was trying her best.

Something drove her, made her all the more aware of the predicament her clan was in. Mikoto had never been one to take an active part in the clan's ruling before. But perhaps, the new development, their discussions about family and how to best protect them, had opened up another view for her? Kushina was no mind-reader, but she could only believe that Mikoto would try her best to keep the balance between the clan and the village. She was a peaceful soul, always had been. Even before her marriage. But now, that sedate presence had become more direct. _Focused_.

"Well, we can't know for sure until we ask her."

All heads swerved towards the bushy-browed amphibian who stood leaning against his walkingstick. It was odd, but there was something close to puzzlement on the old toad's face. Something that set Jiraiya's nerves on end.

He returned his gaze at the woman. One of the few to catch the attention of the famous Uchiha bachelor. She was scraped up, looking worse for wear. But there was clearly something about the woman. An edge that he hadn't seen in a long time.

He huffed, crossing his arms as he spun to take a more comfortable position in the room. If he had to wait to get his answers, he would. Patience had never been his strong suit. But neither was leaving a threat unattended to.

And when she _did_ wake...

Jiraiya allowed his gaze to turn to where Kushina was shifting Itachi into a more resting position by his mother's side. The boy slipping off to sleep almost instantanuously once he shut those weary eyes of his.

She better have the answers he wanted.

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_

* * *

 **A/N:** Alright. Another chapter, hope you like it! Summer 2016 is over and so is my private life! Hehe. Seriously, the updates are going to be every 1-2 weeks at best because of my current living position in the hospital (Medschool internships and no internet, gah). But I try my best.

If you like it, don't be afraid to comment! If you don't, well, don't let that stop you! Critique, good or bad, is always welcome. So if it annoys you, say so. It always makes me happy to hear from you all no matter the reason. – DR.


	13. Chapter 13

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

 **A/N:** First of all! I want to thank you for all the fantastic response and reviews I've gotten on the last chapter and those before that. I'm positively amazed that so many actually read this story. Not to mention the faithful reviewers who have followed me all the way here. So, regardless if your new or old, to know that you actually read all the way to the bottom brings a smile to my face. I can't say it enough. Thank you! For your interest and support. – DR

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 13

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Dark eyes didn't open to the dreary white, hospital ceiling as she anticipated. Rather, it was to the open arch ceiling of the small flat she hadn't been inside for more than half a decade. _Warmth_ pressed into her side, of a soothing nature that slowed her erratic heartbeat considerably.

She flexed her fingers, relishing in the texture of the fabric her hand grasped hold of. Neatly trimmed seams in sleek but warm material. Seams she had spent many a long afternoons mending after another day's worth of hard training had torn them open.

A long, steadying breath...

Enough to make the world fall in place again. No longer the nightmarish surrounds of a village razed to the ground, nor the cold damp of the tunnel, blood tinging the senses of her nostrils. There were no explosions, no hurried scrabbles in the distance or desperate cries in search of loved ones.

Her lips fluttered, cracked yet seemingly helpless to produce any sound.

Mikoto cleared her throat, ignoring the sore itch residing there as she curled on the softness she lay on, burying deeper into the feeling of _home_.

Smooth, raven strands tickled her neck and she pushed her nose into it. Revelling, cherishing the sheer knowledge that it was there, and not somewhere she could not reach. Far away somewhere, in a long forgotten gutter, awaiting to be found. Lifeless.

 _'Cold as night. As the last breath being sucked through tired lungs before all motion cease. Resignation, and regret. The life-crippling grief. So much-'_

No.

She hugged his warmth tight.

No. Itachi _is_ here.

Nowhere else and no one could change it. No one would be let close enough to even attempt taking him away. Not now, not ever.

Her breath hitched, her body whirling on the narrow bed to catch her arm against steel. Rock hard muscle. Coiling beneath her blow as if it was nothing. As if her full strength was nothing more than the half-assed swipe of an ignorant kitten. Overestimating its capabilities. In the power she had to change things.

Energy coiled inside her, twisting ferociously in a jitter of cloud-like intensity despite the small volume of it. Barely catching onto the surface of her skin before a low chuckle was drawn from her opponent. It breached through her hazy mind to rock her senses into – _now_. The present, in which she was actually brimming her coils with the similar destructive force that had sizzled through her last opponent. S _hocked._

Itachi.

Her mind backtracked into a sluggish stop, trying desperately to slow down the wild turning of her thoughts as she recognized that even though _something_ was near, so was her _son_.

Dangerously close.

Mikoto exhaled...

The sound of which must have amused the one boring into her with that heavy gaze. Mikoto raised her eyes, finding it ridiculously hard to focus because her body, even the muscles moving her eyes, felt weak. As if just shifting her gaze those last few inches took more strength than it possibly should in that situation.

"Not bad," the voice taunted, "for a housewife."

Her jaw clenched, tension siezing her frame as she tried, futilely, to shift backwards. To block the young body lying by her side.

Dark eyes scanned her form, apparently more than a bit tickled by the idea of the woman with the barely reacting chakra humming millimeters below her skin. Jiraiya was no fool, and his sage training with nature chakra had made him all the more attuned. The slight shifts, the almost unnoticeable bunching of muscles and natural concentration of chakra in the right, critical spots, more or less transformed the otherwise tame-looking woman into a beast, ready to pounce.

To hide such fire beneath that calm exterior...

 _An Uchiha indeed. No matter what Kushina tries to say..._

"Jiraiya-sama," the woman bit out with more than a little disgust. As if finding him within arms-reach was more than insulting. Though, when he thought of it, most women probably thought so. Since, the moment he came close, there was usually some questionable intent behind his actions.

Jiraiya was a honest man, but also a very sceptic one when needed.

It came with the trade. But more so when you worked as him. Alone in enemy territory, where a single wrong glance in his direction could be the only heads-up you got before you had your throat slit open. And if something did not adhere to his view of them, it became reason enough for him to keep his senses on edge.

And an Uchiha, even one as familiar as Kushina's best friend, acting out of character – for she was, this woman, who had turned on him instinctively without any thought of self-preservation, before she realized her current position – it was bound to raise his suspicions. He narrowed his eyes at her, stepping back just enough so that his large form towered over her and draped her in his all-consuming shadow.

She couldn't look at him.

Everything in her screamed at her not to, that this man would see straight through her as soon as their eyes met, so Mikoto went for the second best option. Fixing her gaze at the prominent character of _oil_ engraved on his forehead. It soothed her somewhat, for she knew, that despite the lack of the more common Konoha hitai-ate, this man was more loyal than most. But she also knew that little would spare her against the accusations thrown at her if she even hinted that she had something to do with the current state of the village.

Konoha...

Her eyes slid back over her shoulder as she felt the firm hold of small fingers, wrapped around the naked skin of her forearm.

 _Konoha,_ she thought as she locked eyes with steady obsidian, a long throw from the innocent ones she had nurtured before this whole mess. But the same in all but determination. This was not the eyes of a boy, but those of a growing young man, more wise than the ignorant child many of his age would seem as and twice as unforgiving. It took Mikoto a while to realize that the hard determination she saw in them was not, in fact, directed at her. But at the man, who stood smirking behind her.

A loud, barritone laugh filled the air and the hold on her arm tightened.

"I-Itachi," Mikoto tried, in vain, to get the boy's attention. But the twin sharingans that morphed into existence would not sway from their target. All but burning into the older, white-haired sennin.

"You should rest, Kaa-san."

Then, with a surprising strength, she found herself pushed back down into the cushioned surface, her stomach twinging a bit at the forceful shift. She did not know what to think once Itachi started crawling over her, his feet easily finding steady footing on the edge of the sofa, giving his height a boost that pushed his head almost level with the Toad Sannin's chest.

"Give it a rest, Jiraiya-san," Itachi said softly and the Sannin almost spluttered at the clear lack of respect in his address. The tone was all but endearing and once again Jiraiya remembered extactly why he always seemed to get rubbed the wrong way when it came to Uchihas. Honor be damned, he never found a clan with larger sticks shoved up their asses.

Mikoto was about to butt in and stop the spiralling madness, when a clear referee burst out from the doorway leading to the only bedroom. "Jiraiya!"

The white-haired man flinched and Itachi felt the slightest bit of satisfaction run through him as he watched the large man step down. A familiar sight of red hair filled the corner of his eye, burning into memory as his sharingan seemed to almost suck in everything about the situation at hand occurring in the room. His mother's tired face. Sasuke being held up against Kushina's shoulder while still half-asleep and the famed Toad Sannin, cursing under his breath as he backed off to the more secure location of the windowsill.

"Mikoto!"

Said woman gave a oomph as she suddenly found her vision blocked by red, her friend's body pressed against her shoulder as lukewarm tears splashed over her neck. The shivering sobs seemed unstoppable and Mikoto raised a hand to bury it in her hair. Brushing through chockingly short, crimson strands.

"Kushina.."

"I- I thought we'd lost you. I thought you dead, like everyone else. Like Minato..."

Her arms tightened the cradle they'd made around Mikoto's torso, pressing air out of her lungs.

"I-I'm not dead, Kushina-!" She choked out, but not before thinking that she might very well soon be, the way her lungs were stifled, Kushina's elbow digging into her stomach just enough to make the soreness there burn like the katon sphere her clan was so famous for.

As if her words were more confirmation of her living state than her racing heartbeat, Kushina pulled away. A wobbly smile on her face. She sniffled, hands coming to rub at her suddenly runny nose, causing a warm lump to roll down Mikoto's torso and both women scrambled to catch the now squirming bundle.

"Sorry!" The redhead apologized as she plopped the child in her lap, Mikoto already having pushed up into a seat to more easily hold the boy.

Itachi stood beside the scene, watching as Mikoto embraced Sasuke, the child finally realising who was holding him and bursting into conflicted tears. Itachi was so glad to hear him make a sound that he didn't even wince at the loud volume. He did, though, release a pent-up breath once Mikoto managed to hush Sasuke's cries down to small wimpers.

Jiraiya, for one, regarded the scene passively.

His calculative gaze steadily absorbed the emotions, the restricted movements and expressions that were so hard to fake. Yet, he knew that something had passed in those dark eyes. In those few minutes when it was just Mikoto and him. No outward facade or walls between them.

Jiraiya liked to think he could measure a shinobi's intent with a single glance, but somehow, the truth behind Uchiha Mikoto's actions elluded him.

Of course, to be wife to the clan head demanded a certain.. restraint. Controlling your emotions was probably one of the first training regimes forced onto the girl.

Mikoto, long before she even thought of marrying Fugaku, had always been open but suppressed socially and emotionally, to a degree. Perhaps it was to level out the differences between Kushina and herself. Or perhaps it was just to stabilize the team they had been put on. To find the much needed balance, since two loudmouths were better than three and a level head was always in demand around the constantly hotheaded jinchuuriki.

Still, it was as if Jiraiya's composed image of the woman had been snapped in half.

The sedate and otherwise controlled individual that he had last interacted with so many years ago was no where in sight and instead this... _vivid_ woman was left in place. Someone, who was no longer carrying herself like the woman of a noble clan and instead living _as_ herself. As she was meant to be.

In that moment, Jiraiya concluded that he would never understand Uchihas. Nor the workings of the minds behind them. For they did not adhere to the pattern of their clan behind closed doors, even if the image they wished to portray in public was one of strength and prideful superiority.

Or perhaps it was just Mikoto.

And he truly believed it might just be so.

"What.. happened?" The still slightly raw voice bounced across the otherwise silent space, causing Kushina to grimace. When they had started to fall back on old habits, reassured of the other's wellbeing, or as healthy and well as they could be after the past events, Kushina should have expected that there were a great deal of confusion to sort out.

Of course, from the knowing look Jiraiya sent her, Kushina knew it had not been forgotten by him. Not at all.

She shifted were she sat on the seat beside Mikoto. Itachi half leaning into Mikoto's side as he kept wary eyes on the only other occupant of the room.

After setting Sasuke-chan back to rest with Naruto in his crib, the silence in the room had become almost suffocating. As if all saw the great elephant in the room but no one dared to touch upon it.

It made the whole setting... weird. To say the least.

The corner of Mikoto's lips twitched. "Well, except for the obvious."

The warm gaze that landed on Kushina told her that her friend did not blame her. No matter what part Kushina had played in the release of the Kyuubi. To Mikoto, the presence of the great chakra in her belly had always been constant, as Kushina had been chosen to become the next vessel of the demon long before her graduation from the academy.

It.. _helped_. For at least then around Mikoto Kushina knew that someone understood her. That the choice, no matter how forced, had actually been made with the wellbeing of the Village in mind. It smoothed over the transition for many of the parties involved. But Mikoto was well aware that Kushina, the woman who from an early age strove to become that which so few became, always had the safety of her Village in mind, no matter how harshly it treated her.

"Well.." Kushina's eyes struggled for a moment. The thought of recounting the events brought other emotions linked to less happy memories to the forefront. Mikoto rubbed at the droplets travelling down Kushina's cheeks. As usual, Mikoto did her best to keep her comfortable.

Strong, oh so kind, Mikoto.

"It was hard to comprehend, in the beginning." Mikoto's shaky voice continued on, still battered and bruised for reasons Kushina could not understand. But the way Mikoto kept the banket wound tight aorund her shoulders, screening off the area of her throat probably had something to do with it. "Things happened so fast. Going from joyful exaltation to boneshocking fear in a split second."

Jiraiya watched as a pale hand rose to trace the side of her bruised face. It was healing, sure. But he knew from experience that such a deep bruise was still days from fading completely.

The way her eyes clouded over for a moment, and the strangely protective way Itachi pressed even closer tp her gave Jiraiya an inkling that the story behind that particular injury was not a happy one.

"After the birthing. When the room collapsed in on itself.." She stopped, blocking out some of the images brought to the forefront. "After clearing the tunnels, we were home free."

Kushina winced. Her hand automatically going to her shoulder, that had taken most of the impact from being flung across the street once the tag blew up. That a mere flash-tag had such a exposive bite behind it was stunning. Though the compressed air it had shoved their way might be part of the reason they had been so shocked in the first place. It had been modified and tampered with, that was for sure.

Her mind reminded her of the fire-safety lessons they got in the academy. Warnings of using the elements in combinations to multiply the damage rate of jutsus... The influx of oxygen, the way the tag had been timed perfectly. Their attacker had taken everything into account. Even the amount of room left to work around...

"I.. I must have blacked out for a bit. Because the next thing I know I'm lying on hard stone, head close to exploding."

"It was a diversion, if I ever saw one," Kushina spat out, drawing the attention of the spymaster seated in a chair not far from them. "Kakashi was on his feet first. That kid always seems to have the grace of a dancer when balance is knocked from under his feet."

Itachi sank his fingers into the blanket surrounding his mother when he listened, the details of the fight soon escalating until something became painfully clear to all of them.

"Wait, I thought you said the enemy followed you out?" Jiraiya questioned.

"I did," Kushina shot back.

"There was more than one."

All heads cocked in one direction at the sudden uttering, zooming in on the boy sitting quietly on the armrest of the sofa.

"What do you mean, Itachi?"

"True," Mikoto confirmed, shooting a wary glance at Itachi. "The common traits of those we fought are too similar, unless the whole mask thing was meant to confuse us."

"Distortion is a common tactic," Jiraiya rumbled. "It could have been genjutsu. Though with how much all of you are hurt, I doubt it. Which means clones are more likely."

"Clones?" Kushina interjected, but was silenced as she caught Mikoto's fascination with the concentration on Itachi's face. "Itachi?"

"It wasn't a normal bunshin, that's for sure." He shifted, tension filling his small form as he thought back on it. Still, the kid was a few years into the academy at most and Jiraiya doubted the boy could determine more without actually being introduced to the techniques before. Itachi's brow furrowed, deepening the line that was just starting to etch its way between his eyebrows.

"Bunshins and other lower level jutsus copy an appearance rather than adapt it, like a genjutsu." Mikoto blinked, her hand paused where it was running calming strokes along the top of his raven head. Itachi, however, did not seem to notice the stop in motion. "That was no mere mimickry, but ones that had chakra running through them exactly like mine or yours."

Mikoto dropped her hand, "What makes you think so?"

Itachi raised one finger, tapping gently beside his eye. "The Sharingan sees through genjutsu and locates the pathways of the individual much like a Hyuuga's byakugan, or so Shisui says. We might not see it so clearly as to be able to determine the locations of the tenketsu points, but we can see the flow of chakra permeating the tissues. _That_ , whatever it made itself out to be, was no C-rank clone jutsu. The amount of chakra pumped into it alone contradicts that notion."

"Sharp eyes, for a kid." Jiraiya shook off Itachi's glare as he leaned deeper over his knees, elbows propped on knees as his face grew contemplative. "Though, to discern so much with a glance... Unless, you had more of an altercation than you wish to admit?"

Itachi flinched and Mikoto cast concerned eyes in his direction. "I.."

"Itachi?"

"I might have.. seen him coming?"

"What-?!" Kushina spun on him.

"I thought my eyes were playing tricks." Itachi shook his head. "I was tired and my eyes already stung from use. I thought I might have been dreaming, it seemed so impossible... He sort of appeared straight through the wall."

The room grew silent.

"A cloaking genjutsu, and a good one, if even Kakashi's sharp nose was unable to catch it." Jiraiya frowned. "High-level genjutsu and shadow clones. Nor really a happy picture, when it's your enemy."

"Jiraiya-sama!"

"Jiraiya," Kushina argued. "The Kagebunshin is a closely guarded Konoha technique. For just anyone to-!" Her face faltered, her anger fading as her thoughts connected the dots.

"Add to it a wide repertoire of fire jutsus and suddenly you understand my need for concern."

Mikoto prickled visibly, her stance becoming stiff even in her current position. "I don't know what you are insinuating-"

"I am merely stating facts, Uchiha-san." He stood up, crossing his arms as he paced like an wild animal, restless. His long, spiky white hair moving like a tail in annoyance. He stopped, turning face towards them. "Or are you secondguessing what you saw?"

"I-"

"Not to mention the old rumours that only the Shodaime and his rival, Uchiha Madara," Mikoto visibly flinched, "ever had the ability to fully control the tailed beasts."

Mikoto felt an extreme need to avert her gaze, but she knew that if she folded now, she would only strengthen Jiraiya's suspicion. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stay firm and remain calm. Even though echoes of the man in the tunnel kept repeating over and over in her head.

 _Uchiha Madara.._

Impossible!

 _Finally have his revenge.._

Jiraiya's gaze burned into her, willed her to give in. He could sense a secret like a shark scented blood.

"Unless, there are more secrets to that dojutsu of yours than the clan cares to admit?"

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Nothing had been resolved. Nothing, but the confirmation that they would never get along. Not now, not ever, unless Mikoto could get the Toad Sennin to trust her. To accept her and her intentions. Whatever the were.

Everything was so muddled to her that Mikoto was having a hard time keeping track of everything around her.

True. The facts and events that had surrounded them all pointed in the same direction. That there was something seriously wrong with the organization of things. She could feel that there was something evil at work. Something that would not hesitate to drag the Uchiha clan down into the dirt with it.

She _knew_ this.

Yet, it had been so hard to bring out the truth. To open her mouth and just say something. Anything!

But even to her mind, sprouting nonsense about an Uchiha long dead somehow wishing to annihilate Konoha on the basis of some old grudge... It would get her a ticket to he loony house sooner than she could say 'Hey! Uchiha Madara lives!' And wouldn't that be a great beginning! Because not only would it increase the suspicions against her clan but also put Itachi and Sasuke in the spotlight. Simply, for being the ones who were – in more ways than on – directly decended from the line of the old warmonger.

Her head hurt.

And Mikoto was sure it was not because of the more than a few knocks it had received these past few days. No, it felt like her brain was being pushed through a strainer, trying to squeeze out some possible solution for all the problems that kept popping up around her.

It had been so easy.

Before she had been set into this existance.

Now, she had a shattered Konoha on her hands. A dead Hokage, that was more then detrimental to the healths of many, not to mention her very shell-shocked friend. Who, to this minute, seemed to ignore the greatest hit on her sanity thus far by avoiding all and every topic concerning Minato.

Mikoto sighed, feeling somehow inadequate in the big workings of things.

She allowed her eyes to open, abandoning the darkness of her thoughts. It was cool, the night air, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, it helped. It eased the pain somewhat for it made the warmth between their bodies seem much, much stronger.

Having left the couch to the tireless affections of the Toad Sage, Mikoto had claimed the empty spot on the right side of the bed instead. Fiercely ignoring the fact that she had taken _his_ place, Mikoto tried to calm her breathing while resting her eyes on the sleeping pair lying next to her.

Though Itachi did protest in the beginning, the boy had been quick to give in to their demands as night drew on. Now, with Itachi safely stowed between her and Kushina, Mikoto felt a semblence of peace fill her.

Quite frankly, there had been a point where Mikoto feared she would not get out of that dreadful tunnel alive. She had been prepared to give her all, if it would have somehow secured Itachi and Sasuke a way out. Now, thinking of what she could have lost. It made the lump in her chest knot up even harder.

She buried into her pillow, listening to the slight shuffles outside as Jiraiya, no doubt, were conversing – try arguing – with the elder toads.

Really, this whole thing had them all on end.

Unable to suppress the urge, Mikoto reached out. Body shifting a bit so that Itachi was pressed closer, but her arm still free from the warm covers. Fingertips hovering above Kushina's face.

Gently, she stroked the marred skin, knowing that it must be sensitive despite how much it had been healed. In spite of how rough the scarring seemed. Strands of red brushed against the length of her fingers as she did, tickling memories of old.

So much had changed...

Things that could not be made undone.

Her hand paused as Kushina's expression changed in her sleep. Her eyebrows drawn in, nose scrunched up slightly even as her lips remained in that troubled expression Kushina had adopted once she fell asleep. Mikoto could only assume what was going on in that mind of hers...

She brought her thumb over to soothe the line that marked the transition between old and new.

"Minato.." Kushina breathed, a small tear gathering in the corner of her eye.

Her hand froze, her expression hardening as an unexplanable sensation flushed up her throat, blocking her airway enough that she had to give a small gasp just to draw breath. Mikoto refused to squeeze her eyes shut and chose instead to carve the image of Kushina's moonlit face into the deepest part of her mind. All the sorrow, the pain that never saw the light of day. Hidden behind the walls of a woman who battled monsters on the behalf of those undeserving. Her heart balked at the idea of leaving this woman to fend for herself. Not when Kushina had been there for Mikoto at her weakest moment. Not when Kushina had offered up _so much_ of the little time she had left... Those precious few months she could have spent with Minato. Minato, who Mikoto knew Kushina would give her life to protect. Just like he did for hers.

She smoothed back the red strands, following the tracks of that one single tear as it slipped down her cheek, into the myriad of strands tangled beneath her head.

 _Never again_..

Mikoto felt her resolve form in her as she continued to watch the sleeping angel, who had withstood so much for a village that could care less what happened to her. Those that accepted her death as a mere casualty. Who had forgotten about Kushina as if she never existed in the first place.

 _No, they don't deserve you.._

Her senses spread out, searching for the rest of the signatures bathing inside the construction of seals. Minato's chakra made it hard, even when searching from inside the contraption. Mikoto's sensing skills never were that sharp in the first place. But she soon managed to hone in on them anyway. The three small flutters that matched her own.

Warm.

Breathing.

 _Alive._

And she would see to it that they remain so.

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_

* * *

 **A/N:** And here's chapter 13! I don't know if its me or just that it's the unlucky 13, but I spent a lot of time changing this one, never fully satisfied with the way it turned out. I felt like I wanted to squeeze in all the important bits in one chapter. But soon realized that it would become too confusing for you readers. Being unable to write regularly, makes my fingers itch and become impatient!

Still. It's the great reunion chapter! Yay-! Or at least for Mikoto and Kushina. A lot of feels and emotions which I actually find hard writing. I personally think I needed to confirm the bond between them, since they're both going to need it for future chapters. Not a lot of action, though. As usual the progress is slow... But I think that a lot will become clearer in the next chapters.

Oh, and what about the great reveal? What _did_ they say? What about Madara? You'll find out later, I promise. Anyhow, not much Itachi in this, but I like writing him. Especially when he acts all big despite his small size. Hope you like! – DustyRabbit.


	14. Chapter 14

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

 **A/N:** Sorry for the wait! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! – DustyRabbit

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 14

 **.oOo.**

* * *

He was shaking like a leaf, despite the burn in his muscles. A chill, deep-rooted, had set in his bones and he wasn't sure how to get rid of it. It was like staring a great beast straight in its menecing eyes, unable to fight and impossible to back away from. All he wanted was to flee until his heart couldn't keep up with the thunderous pace anymore.

His hands trembled and he took the brief moment he was soaring through the trees to clench them. Forcing the involuntary movements to stop.

It was ridiculous. This was nothing he hadn't seen before. The previous night was not the first time he saw a fellow shinobi get killed. Neither was it the shell-shocked stupor he had experienced the first time around. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. Guilty thoughts that said he should have done more. Should have acted. _Prevented_. Taken his team-mate's place...

No. This time he was alone.

Or, at least, that was how it felt.

His eyes slid towards the fast moving form of his current squadleader. But Uchiha Fugaku had no comforting words to offer him. Just that same grim expression that had claimed its place on his aged face after the blast. And his uncle had aged, no matter how impossible it seemed to be able to accelerate the physiological process of aging by simply being exposed to something life-changing.

Yet the truth stared back at him from over burdened shoulders every ten minutes like a hollowed out mask, leeched dry of energy: The thinly pressed lips. The lines, which had only deepened further once they had finished gathering what little pieces were left behind of their fallen squad member.

Only when his uncle's bleeding red sharingans glowered into the dark of the surrounding wood did something other than his apathetic expression show on Fugaku's face. Grim resignation, a hint of deeply buried regret which would soon be drowned out by razor sharp, refined anger. The kind that bubbled beneath the surface and only dragged its dangerous claws through the still surface when Fugaku thought nobody else was looking.

Feet landed on a too thin branch, a stupid miscalculation, which sent Shisui crashing down through the lower ones. His arms reached frantically for something to hold onto, since his chakra was pushing it and he could already feel his control shake and fade into nothing.

The sudden jerk to a stop was more disorienting than the sudden up-side down world view that met him.

"Easy there, Shisui." He felt blood rush into his pale face, the pressure inside his head building similarly to the tight hold of the arm wrapped around his waist.

Another foot dangled limply in front of his face.

"Shisui?"

"I-I'm fine," he shot back quickly. Feeling embarrassment wash over him for having burdened his squad once again. They were already having a hard enough time making good time getting back to the village. He didn't need to add to it with his own two fumbling feet.

Atsurou didn't seem to take his attempt at reassurance seriously though and gave a sharp, high-pitched whistle before slowly walking down the tree trunk. Shisui landed on the woodland floor with a gentle plop and almost immediately his legs started to prickle as if stung by hundreds of needles. Soldier pills only worked so well, after all. In the end, even if his individual chakra reserves were momentarily replenished with corresponding synthetic substitutes, there was still his physical limitations to adhere to.

A pained grimace sneaked onto his face.

Apparently, running almost non-stop for nearly a day without rest was enough to make his body protest. Stimulants or not.

Fugaku backtracked to them just in time as Atsurou lowered his unconscious younger brother pff his back to the ground.

"Report."

A long breath was the sole indication of how quickly Atsurou's annoyance was growing. Though, personally, Shisui was more annoyed to note how Atsurou barely showed any signs of being winded, despite carrying a fully grown man for _miles_.

"The kid needs rest."

Shisui bristled, but couldn't help but shrink back a bit once Fugaku's heavy gaze landed on him.

Normally, Shisui prided himself for being able to stand straight underneath his uncle's penetrating stare. They had very similar eyes, after all. Fugaku and Itachi. Though the latter was always adamant that Shisui was simply imagining it.

There was a similar degree of depth to them, however, which only reaffirmed Shisui's opinion.

And now those scrutinizing eyes were directed at him, with all of their dismantling intensity. As if Fugaku was trying to slowly pick him appart. Solve the mystery without having to resort to actually _asking_.

"Is that true, Shisui?"

The youngest Uchiha in the group turned his gaze down to his hands, which were gripping his trembling legs.

Uchiha Fugaku might willingly overlook details every once in a while, but he was in no way unobservant. He knew he had been pushing it with his team recently. Forced their pace, in some kind of desperate attempt to win time. To gain an advantage on something he knew was unavoidable.

He had failed their mission. Lost their target and sacrificed two of their team members in the process. Fugaku had failed them as their squadleader and now he was driving the last of them into the ground on some wild goose chase because of something as fickle as revenge.

To save face and regain his honor.

Fugaku ignored the stinging burn of his pride.

"Fine. We'll stop for an hour."

Shisui released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Some of the heightening tension leaving his frame.

Yet, unconsciously, he found himself keeping track of the agitated Uchiha Head as he stalked the freshly designated camp area. Atsurou gave him a weak sideways grin of acknowledgement, very uncharacteristic of the normally serious man, before bending down to check on Keishi's broken leg. The wounded Uchiha didn't even try to hide his cursing under his breath about Fugaku's rude treatment of fellow shinobi, and rightfully so, after Fugaku dumped him unceremoniously to the ground. His vehement hissing made even Shisui's legs ache in sympathy.

Trying to distract himself from listening in on the pained rambles and small argument that broke out between the two, Shisui shook out the last of the water left in his canteen. Enjoying the soothing touch it gave his parched throat.

Then a callused palm was pressed against his forehead and Shisui found another water canteen shoved into his hand. "Drink. You'll need to fill your reserves enough to last another few hours. I don't plan on stopping before dawn."

The young chuunin shivered, trying not to show his nerves and how uncomfortable the close proximity with the stoic clan leader made him. Then, as if it had never been there in the first place, the cool hand moved off his skin without another word.

Shisui blinked, but said nothing.

Seconds later, as if on afterthought, Fugaku lowered himself down on the ground to lean his back against the tree trunk beside him. Dark eyes fixed onto the distant trees that marked the treeline. Seeming to soak in the last few beems of light pouring in between the leaves, heralding the oncoming night.

"Heartless," came a sleepy, low grumble from Keishi. But Fugaku acted like he didn't hear him. Not answering the taunt.

Shisui found it odd, how calm the man acted.

Ever since the mission went haywire, Shisui expected some kind of reaction from his uncle. For Fugaku to, at the very least, vent a bit of his frustration with them. They were all in the same boat and nobody here would judge him for it. After all, they had been there when it happened. They had seen _it._

There had been nothing the Uchiha leader could have done to prevent it. It had been too sudden. Too unexpected.

But he didn't show anything outwardly.

Instead Fugaku kept quiet. Gaze unwavering as he surveiled the trees. And it struck Shisui that perhaps it was all because of them. Because someone needed to be the strong one. A leader that keep the squad together..

Soon, the two of them were the only ones not attempting a quick catnap. Atsurou lay down beside his brother. His strong back up against Keishi's good leg. The cool of the evening settled in around them and instictively, Shisui found himself leaning a bit in his Uncle's direction.

He shivered.

But they didn't touch.

Their tense shoulders set inches apart as if a invisible wall had come between them. He could feel the faint heat radiating off Fugaku. But Shisui didn't dare press any closer, because that mask of his was up again. The one that hid all the nasty emotions and left him as unreadable as stone.

 _Dangerous_.

His breath slowed down further. Afraid that the sound of his breathing would catch the interest of the lurking predators in the wild around them. In _him_.

But the elder Uchiha's gaze didn't shift. Fugaku's hand wrapped protectively around the dark leather satchel that hung at his waist. His dark eyes untouched by the gruesome knowledge of what lay within.

Shisui closed his eyes, trying to physically 'unsee' what he knew was _there._

There was no point in lingering on it.

Shisui couldn't do or say anything to make it all better. And knowing the man, Fugaku wouldn't accept his attempts either. He was too proud for it. Too stubborn.

So he let his uncle be. Left him to sort out his morbid thoughts in peace.

A lone man, battling an internal war Shisui could only one day hope to fathom.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"It's not going to work," Kushina complained. Headstrong as always.

"Of course, it won't." Jiraiya countered, messing with some of the wares he had gotten. "To attempt a genjutsu of that caliber, which would keep for days at a time would be foolish. Even with your innate Uzumaki reserves. But if we only tweak the bits that are needed.."

Mikoto watched in equal horror as Jiraiya pulled out one of those horrid hair dyes that could be bought at the specialized weapon shops around Konoha, a product mainly used for longterm infiltration missions. She had not seen one for years. The stuff had perfect coverage, but left much to be desired in the way of haircare. Mikoto had only used the formula once during her genin years, thankfully, as it had taken her years to regrow and restore her hair back to normal. Ninja only ever used it on infiltration missions where there was high risk of capture and the need of a perfect cover overruled all other options.

The scepticism and outright rejection on their faces must have been what drew the last strawfor him, because Jiraiya slammed the container down with a jarring force. Rocking the kitchen table in the process.

"Do you _want_ to look like an Uchiha or not?"

Mikoto paled, hearing the exact words. For although she had expressed her willingness to cooperate with whatever plan the Toad Sage came up with regarding Kushina, she had not expected _that._

Itachi sent them a curious look from where he sat on a spread out blanket entertaining two infants, one cleary more determined to investigate the other. Thankfully Shima-san, the elder toad that had been taking care of Naruto-chan so far, kept a watchful eye on them.

"Uchiha?" They parroted. Jiraiya rolled his eyes skywards.

"Yes, _Uchiha_. Dark headed, good genetics and with complimentary five foot poles up their asses. That kind of Uchiha."

"Jiraiya-san..."

"It's so perfect, no one will expect it!" He announced, but his victorious smile faded a bit as something of importance struck him. "Though, how you will fit in with that depressive lot.."

He stopped. Suddenly very wary of the way Kushina's fist clenched.

"Right," he coughed, hiding the twitch of his lip.

"Jiraiya," Kushina shot him a look that clearly questioned his sanity. "Unless you've actually been in a hole in the ground for the last.. what is it? Ten years?"

Mikoto rolled her eyes.

"You would know I've been quite the frequent guest at the Uchiha compound these last few months. The guards and staff are so used to it, they can sense my chakra approaching before I even enter the compound. How do you think turning up looking like some Uchiha wannabe is going to work out? Hm?"

The white-haired man released a huge sigh. One that set Mikoto on edge. The Sennin was a big idiot most of the time, but there was no arguing the fact that Jiraiya had been named one of the Sannin and spymaster of Konoha for a reason. And although most Uchiha questioned his intellect at times, there had to be some truth behind his renown.

"That is why I'm telling you we need this!" He shook the bottle containing the dye.

"Jiraiya-san," Mikoto started. "I know you don't hold the hightest opinion of my clan. But I can assure you, we're not blind."

A snort resounded from Itachi, but all adults ignored it. Jiraiya huffed, crossing his strong arms.

"Which is why Kushina and the boy will leave with me first."

The world suddenly stopped around her.

"Eh? Why? Why should I?"

"Kushina, we have to logical."

"How is it logic? I can't leave! We've sacrificed everything for this village. Minato sacrificed everything-!"

"I'm not saying-"

"But you're _implying_ , you sly-" Kushina stopped abruptly, blinking as she registered the hand wrapped tight around hers. She looked up at Mikoto, but the Uchiha wouldn't look her in the eyes. Face turned down, Mikoto was trembling so faintly one would have missed it if you didn't focus on the vibrations propagating down through her hand.

"Don't go."

Blue eyes grew large.

Jiraiya groaned, "Oh, come on!"

"Mikoto.."

"Please.." A shaky breath. It felt like her the foundations of her world was crumbling around her. "Don't."

"She can't stay here, Mikoto-san." Jiraiya underlined. "They can't."

Kushina moved closer, pressing Mikoto close by wrapping her free arm around her. It was the first time since that sensitive period back when Sasuke-chan was born that she saw her friend like this. The way her whole being wavered, lingering on the edge between sanity and something more sinister. As if she was breaking. Too fragile to even touch.

It made Kushina wish she could take her away. Wrap her up and never let go. Because if she did..

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes. His posture becoming more commanding by the second. "We have to go. Even if, by some chance, the village forgets about what happened. That man..." He paused and Kushina realized that he was collecting himself, reigning in on the killing intent that poured off him in waves. It was a distinct switch from the normally jovial sage. "That man won't leave it off like this. There is nothing more dangerous than a man with a purpose."

Kushina flinced. The pain in her abdomen almost ghost-like as she remembered. The way it burned. The mind-searing pain as the kyuubi tore itself out of her. Broke loose and left her behind broken and bleeding.

 _It's fine. It'll all be alright. It's over now.._

"He'll come for Naruto," Jiraiya's grave words struck hard. "He won't give up that easily. The kyuubi is weak now and so is it's vessel."

Kushina spun around, anger boiling up to the surface. "Jiraiya!"

"It's true and you know it." The Sage moved closer, head tilted in the direction of the newborn, no more than a few days old and still so oblivious of the world and fate he'd been born into. "He'll be an easy target for anyone wanting power. Because that is how he and many others will think of Naruto. As a means to an end. A tool. You've seen it, Kushina. You've _lived_ that life. Do you really want that for your son?"

Itachi's hand paused where it was holding back Sasuke from poking Naruto's eye out. It seemed impossible. For something so small and frail to be dangerous. To contain such an alarming force that he could bring a whole village to his knees in a single heartbeat.

But he had seen it. Seen the horrendous effects of it.

 _Every villager becomes family. Brothers and sisters. People to protect._ Itachi's eyes grew darker. Could he weigh one life over hundreds of others? But weren't all equally important?

Small fingers grasped his larger one. Infinite blue eyes staring at him with such clarity he had never seen before. An innocence that didn't fit with what was sheltered within the babe.

 _Family..._

Itachi slid his gaze a bit to his left and resisted the smile that threatened to curl when Sasuke wrapped his arms around his and took said appendage hostage.

 _Family above all else._

"Then.. What do you want me to do? Run away?" Kushina breathed, even if she alrady knew the answer.

"Come with me," the Toad Sage explained. "Let Konoha cool down a bit. Things need to fall in place. Konoha needs to find a way to cope and regain its senses."

"But-"

"All I ask for is time, Kushina," he rumbled. "To forget. To help you train. To allow you to reclaim your life and start a new one. A life worthy of Minato's legacy. One he would have wanted you to have. A life where the little one doesn't have to watch his back constantly, afraid of when the next attempt at his life will succeed."

 _Allow me to keep my promise to Minato._

Kushina's eyes watered. Her face straining. But all it took was one look. One gaze over towards the blanket covered in children. Her bundle of sunny blonde held protectively in Itachi's arms.

It hurt. Knowing that only by leaving everything behind could she save that which was precious to her.

To Minato.

She _couldn't_ let him down. Although it tore at her to even think of leaving the last traces of chakra she had left of him. In the end it was all a ghost. Kushina was chasing after his memory. An imprint he had left behind which held so much links to her. To their short life together. Some painful ones, yes. But also those she couldn't seem to let go of. Memories she knew would slowly start to fade the longer she was separated from them.

But in the end it was just memories. Something that could never be restored to life.

Only made vivid in her mind, where his face was still as clear as the light of day. Enclosed deep down in her heart, where thoughts of Minato still kept her warm.

 _Naruto_.

The sole piece she had left of _him_.

She couldn't let anyone take him from her.

Never.

Mikoto felt her heart splinter as Kushina tugged her hand free. The forced distance she put between them only made her intensions clear.

"What do I need to do?"

Her eyes burned but Mikoto bit down the rising sting in her chest. Kushina was leaving. Her sole, true friend was leaving her behind and she knew that when the redhead decided on something, Mikoto would be powerless to stop it.

The rejection hurt even more than the obvious cold shoulder Kushina gave her. She wouldn't even glance at her. As if doing so would cause her to carefully drawn resolve to waver.

Kushina's words stung. But so too did the voice of reason that echoed inside Mikoto's head. Could she be so selfish? To keep Kushina by her side despite knowing that in doing so she would risk more than just her friendship? She would endanger _lives_ just because she didn't want to face it all alone...

"Tell me. What can I do to keep Naruto safe?" Kushina's voice echoed like a distant rain, come to wash everything clean.

Because that was what it came down to, wasn't it?

They needed an opportunity to start over with a clean slate. A new beginning, away from Konoha.

Away from her.

In the end, Mikoto never was strong enough when it truly mattered.

* * *

 _ **To be continued...**_


	15. Chapter 15

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** Blood and **Violence.** Expected **Character death.**

 **A/N:** Fugaku/Mikoto. A penny for your thoughts? – DustyRabbit

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 15

 **.oOo.**

* * *

He couldn't believe his eyes.

Standing on the edge of the slope where it started its decent towards Konoha proper Uchiha Fugaku stared. A skin-crawling sensation ran through his body as he caught the scent of the weak plumes that rose from the destruction below.

Many of the others in his squad stood in similar states. All questioning what their eyes were telling them.

Konoha was burning.

Something had brought destruction upon their home and left it covered in ashes.

How something could bring Konoha down to this state went beyond him. Not even during the many ninja wars had the assaults of foreign forces been able to affect the village this much and now he could only watch as the ghost-like visage bled to life under the heavy red light of the blood-stained dawn.

"H-How is this possible?"

"Where are the guards? Shouldn't they be patrolling the walls?"

Fugaku bit down a curse as he made the same conclusions. Yet, he couldn't help himself as his eyes slid towards the direction of the Uchiha district. There was no smoke rising from it. But that was not enough to calm him.

Most of the damage was under control. The fires put out and now, only smaller bonfires dotted specific parts of the village. The white, tent-like structures that towered in the open ground areas close to the walls were milling with chakra signatures. An organized chaos that usually followed when authorities took control of the masses.

Getting past the village gates proved to be harder than he expected.

An attacked village was a wary one and Konoha was no exeption to paranoia when it came to shinobi, who just so happened to conveniently show up afterwards.

It was pure luck, really, that one of the jounin posted at the large gate was an Uchiha.

"Fugaku-sama!" The guard elbowed his way through the throng of people that hung around the huge gate. Villagers were blocking the entrance, carrying supplies and pulling wagons loaded with household effects. A growing current that had only increased over the past few days. Unsuprisingly, the village was in a state of lock-down. Nothing moved, in or out, without them knowing it. Hokage's orders, the guards said.

Fugaku flinched inwardly, finding it strange to see those red eyes peer back at him from a face that looked like it hadn't slept in over a week. The guard's firm grip on his shoulders made him stiffen and judging from the sounds of shifting cloth behind him, it put his team on edge as well.

Shou's scrutinizing gaze didn't let up until it suddenly relaxed, the guard visibly deflating before Fugaku's eyes. "It's him. Send word."

"What are you talking about?" Fugaku pressed, but didn't have the time to get his answer, because a flurry of hooded and dark cloaked ANBU dropped down from the damaged rooftops above.

"Uchiha-sama. The Hokage summons you." The Uchiha guard flinched at the tone, grip tightening on his shoulders. But another of the gate guards pulled him away, leaving Fugaku to stare down the three masked faces.

"Back to work, Uchiha," the higher ranked shinobi ordered and Shou backed away. Leaving to continue his inspection at the head of the line.

The ANBU cloaks fluttered in the air as they placed themselves around the Uchiha clan head. Fugaku didn't quite know what to think of this development. His senses on high alert as he picked up on the hidden tension.

He clenched the muscles in his jaw, resisting the urge to voice his dismay, and turned his head slighly to his right. "Get the wounded to the healers and check on the clan, Atsurou." The man nodded. A hidden understanding was reached between them.

Atsurou's hand landed on the shoulder beside his. "Come, Shisui."

"But-" He started to protest, but Fugaku-sama had already started to trek down the road leading towards the village administrative center. The Hokage tower loomed in the distance. It was strange, watching shinobi forego using the rooftops in favor of walking.

Shisui didn't miss the way the ANBU made a solid formation around his uncle.

"Leave the clan head to do what he does best, Shisui." He said lowly, eyes following the group as it disappeared in the flood of people. "Small fish will get eaten playing with the big sharks."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

 _'I'll be back...'_

She dragged her fingers through her hair, wincing when they caught on knots.

She was a mess.

Wiping at her eyes, she pushed off the floor she sat on. Itachi had gone oddly quiet ever since they left. The plume of white smoke caused by the reverse summon was still hanging in the air. The smell of it not at all as offensive as she once imagined. Instead, it smelled a bit like sweet grass and dew. Something her mind accounted to the fact that it was a Toad summoning contract.

She opened her clenched hand, revealing the small gem. A small, dark red spiral hanging on a simple chain.

 _Uzumaki_.

At first glance, one would think it was a simple glass carving. The shallow grooves not nearly deep enough or that embellished to give the impression of something valuable. But Mikoto knew better. She had seen Kushina carry it for years, hidden beneath her high-collared shirts. A simple testament of belonging, the last piece left of her parents that Kushina wore.

Mikoto knew for a fact that it was one day supposed to be passed on to her children. To Naruto.

 _'I'll be back. Keep it safe for me?'_

She latched the chain around her neck, fingers stopping at the end of it. She knew she would have to find a safer place for it. Walking around with it would be enough to raise questions. A mark of a clan finally exstinct. But now, at this very moment, feeling its weight around her neck was soothing. Just like the lingering warmth in it she knew was due to Kushina carrying it just moments ago.

Itachi gasped as he was pulled into his mother's arms. Sasuke held between them.

She was sad again. And Itachi was too. But for another reason. It was like a piece of his family had been torn away and he didn't know if or when he'd ever see them again.

"Kaa-san." Mikoto opened her eyes a fraction, lips buried in Itachi's luscious black hair. "Kushina-san will come back, won't she?"

She hugged him harder.

"Yes, Itachi-chan." Itachi closed his eyes, burying closer into his mother's neck. "Yes, she will. I'll see to it."

"Naruto-chan too?" Mikoto froze for a second. "Sasuke likes him. So he can't be that bad. He can't be."

"Itachi..."

"We're brother's, right?" Itachi pulled away, gazing into her eyes with his big, obsidian eyes. Too mature for his six-year-old face. "Kushina-san said we might as well be. Like one, big happy family."

Mikoto stared back, unable to answer the boy. Shocked by his insight.

"And you know what, Kaa-san?"

"What, Itachi?" She asked, and watched the softest of smiles set on his face. One that seemed to make even the worst experiences just a bit lighter. A truly honest one.

Entranced, she watched it spread to his eyes.

"I don't mind." He held Sasuke closer. "I don't mind being brothers with him. Because I'm sure one day he'll be as big a hero as his father."

Her eyes softened, and she bent her head down to draw a lung full of his scent.

Her son was more clear-minded than she was and she wondered what that meant? If children could see the truth more easily than adults, what right did they have to make the decisions that mattered the most?

"You're right, Itachi. You've always been right."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

The air was chilly as he entered the Hokage's office. But instead of his unofficial rival, he met a pair of tired old eyes.

"Sarutobi-sama."

"Fugaku."

The Uchiha bowed his head slightly, unable to face the man at this moment. Not when the suprise of finding him there was sending him into a panic. Why was Sarutobi Hiruzen here? Dressed as Hokage, none the less!

His eyes widened, before narrowing in succession.

Mind working quickly and reaching all the right conclusions.

"You must know why you've been summoned here?" Hiruzen echoed in the room.

He reigned in the flinch the authorative voice caused in him. He would not stutter under the Professor's gaze. The third was nothing more than an old man. A past leader of times before the Third War. His ways and views were old. Outdated.

Yet, Sarutobi Hiruzen had once more managed to sieze power.

Fugaku steeled his gaze, meeting the old fox with equal fervor. "No, I assumed it was to be debriefed on my mission. But that does not seem to be the case."

A sneer passed on the elder's face.

There was a degree of calculative calm around him. But Fugaku could tell. He could read the unease in him, from the way he looked uncomfortable back in that lonely chair. They way his eyes flickered towards the door, his senses stretching out constantly in search of _something_.

"You are the last clan head to be summoned and officially briefed on the happenings of the Tenth of October."

Fugaku's eyes went wide at the mention of the date.

"What do you have to report?"

"Forgive me, Hokage-sama." The surprise on the hokage's face must mirror his. "But I think you have a better view of what happened than I have. Until just recently, I've been out on a mission. Although I must admit, I did not expect to find the village in the state it is in upon my return."

The old man weaved his fingers together on the desk. "Is that so?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama." He hesitated for a moment, but took the leap. "I must ask. What has happened? Where is Yondaime-sama?" He already suspected, but he needed confirmation. As clan leader, it was his duty to care for the welfare of his clan members. And any kind of instability in the government of the village was almost always unfavorable in the long run. Especially, if Sarutobi was to take over after the fourth.

The Sandaime's face fell and a deep regret settled over it. Hard to notice, if you didn't interact with the man regularly. But after spending years on the council, arguing with the man more times than not, it was easy to discern the change from the Sarutobi's normally calm expression.

"I am glad the rumors are not as wide spread as I feared."

The hokage stood from his chair. Walking over towards his window. He looked weak, his back no longer as tall as it used to. But appearances could be decieving. Few shinobi were known to live past their forties and Sarutobi Hiruzen was practically ancient in ninja terms. Which always gave Fugaku a need for caution around the man, never knowing what to expect.

The hokage's voice turned grave, "Because I'm afraid we won't be able to keep the news of the Yondaime's death quiet for long."

 _Dead? How?_

"It is a sad day to be forced to retake my seat. I was glad to finally be able to step down. I was well past ready for it... But it was not meant to be."

"What happened, Sandaime-sama?"

Sharp eyes, not dimmed by age in the least, turned his way.

"I'm sure you have surmised by now, from the current state of the village, that there was an attack."

Fugaku nodded.

"Well, it was from a very unlikely source. In fact, I don't think anyone expected it to happen this way."

The Uchiha clenched his teeth, tired of the endless riddles the man offered.

Then, the bomb dropped.

"The Kyuubi was unleashed."

Fugaku stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. But he couldn't seem to swallow down the dread growing in his stomach.

"The Konoha Jinchuuriki is dead and Minato saw to it that the Kyuubi was vanquished accordingly. Dragging the beast with him in death. Still, many lives were lost..."

A tinge of weariness claimed the hokage, clashing with the anger seething inside him.

"A seal that was never meant to be broken was tampered with, and in the worst kind of ways," the Sandaime's voice darkened to the degree of sending chills down his spine. Because it was there. Set in the core of his being, in the accusing gleam to Hiruzen's eyes that gave Fugaku a horrible sense of foreboding. "You and I both know that there are few able to fully control the power of a bijuu. Few are foolish enough to attempt such a feat without rightful confidence that they could succeed."

Fugaku's hands balled up by his sides. Liquid iron hitting his bloodstream as he sensed the words that would come next.

"Tell me, Uchiha-san. How is it this has come to pass?"

* * *

 **.oOo.**

It was a thunderous cloud of a man that stalked his way back through the village.

Sarutobi Hiruzen might not have had the authority to arrest him without enough evidence. At least, not yet. But that had not hindered him from throwing enough suspicions and accusations his way. Harsh, _biased_ words that stemmed from old animosity instilled by the Nidaime. Words that couldn't help but rile Fugaku up because there was no way for him to defend himself against the accusations, no matter how uninformed the Third was about the truth of it.

He could not change history.

Fugaku would always have to stand for the actions of his predecessors.

He sneered. A truly frightening sight as he walked down the half-empty streets. The dark of evening already sweeping in around him.

Had it been that long?

Had the unofficial interrogation gone on for that many hours?

His feet stopped in their tracks as he came upon the gate that separated the Uchiha Compound from the rest of the Village.

In his youth, he had seen the enclave bestowed upon his clan as a sign of their prestige. But now, it seemed all the more like a prison. An enclosed area to keep those who where viewed with suspicion. Those who might pose a future threat to the Village.

He gave an abrupt laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Then, his mind remembered the reason he had fought to become Clan Head in the first place. To gain his place and the means to impress that which he desired the most.

The one person he had forgotten about in this whole mess.

 _I forgot to ask..._

And as he rushed past those of his clan still out and not tending to the damage done to their properties, he forgot to ask those that might have known. Because in that moment all his body could think of was to hurry in the direction he hoped would ease his worry.

But the house lay dark and silent when he arrived. A ghost-like abode that seemed to have gotten stuck in time and place.

His feet moved before his mind thought to. Stalking down the empty corridors and found traces. Signs that made him more and more worried by the second. A half-made dinner. Some of the food set on the table had long since gone cold and begun to go rancid. The empty cot by the table. Itachi's favorite cup on the table. A noticeable lack of the presences he needed the most.

"Where..?"

Chakra moved behind him and he spun. Catching the unsuspecting body behind him unawares.

A pained groan resounded and he blinked. Finding the smaller form pressed harshly into the wall by his overpowering strength.

"Shisui?"

"Ouch. Mind letting up a bit, Uncle?"

The boy rubbed at his twisted and abused elbow. Fugaku was about to tell him to announce himself properly before sneaking up on his superiors but was distracted by the sound of door hinges squeeking. He propelled through the household, panting as he came to a stop in the hall.

Something was dropped to the floor with a dull thump, but Fugaku didn't register what. All he could concentrate on were the two worn forms that entered through the door.

"Tou-san?"

He closed the distance at lightning speed, gathering Itachi into his arms before almost throwing himself over his wife.

Mikoto went stiff beneath him, but he couldn't care what she did or said. All he wanted at the moment was to hold them all close.

True to form, it didn't take her long to start to struggle and he only tightened his hold further. Digging his face into the matted hair hanging past her shoulder. The spell was broken by a shrill cry, however. From Sasuke, protesting quite loudly at being squished between them.

"Mikoto," he whispered almost breathless as he was forced to release them.

All her attention was on the crying babe in her arms, but Fugaku couldn't help himself. His hands cupped her face. Angling her face upwards towards his.

"Not now, Fugaku..." She struggled, but he didn't let off. Her eyes turned heated, a fire in her tired eyes that spoke of her failing patience. But her hands were tied, what with Sasuke straining in her grasp Mikoto had no choice but to try and stare the man down. Couldn't he see that Sasuke was upset?

But the thought was wiped off her mind as he closed the space between them.

Her eyes going wide, struggling before they fell closed.

Fugaku watched her eyelashes flutter closed, brushing her pale cheeks. His warmth pressed into her. His frame ridiculously tall against hers, forcing him to bend slightly. Just enough to match her height. He set a steadying hand at her waist once he noticed her sway, fingertips digging into her soft flesh.

 _How he had missed this._

It was instinct that caused him to angle his face, tipping it to better cover her lips with his. He moved up into her. Revelling in feeling her breath over his skin.

A small sound of protest, but it was lost among the rapid flow of hot air between them.

Fugaku wouldn't have heard it anyway. Too occupied with the feel of her, the taste of her lips as his mind reminded him of the scene he had stumbled in upon: The empty house and his family missing. Everything he held dear gone without trace and no assurance whatsoever whether they were alive or out there somewhere. Bleeding, hurting.. _Dead_.

Just like the Yondaime. Like the annoying Uzumaki woman he had come to somewhat accept over time. Could call a friend even. Mikoto's _best friend_. Kami, Mikoto could have been there with her.

Dead, dead, dead.

And there was nothing Fugaku could have done about it.

Blood pumped through his rapidly heating veins and he leaned in _harder_. His hand clenched around the edge of the wooden doorframe he propped himself up against. The cool wind through the foot-wide crack in the entrance not even registering nor the possibility that someone might see him like _this_. Coming undone by fears he had thought he had long since overcome.

A hand tugged on his arm and Itachi blinked, confused as he tore his eyes away from the scene of his parents – _kissing_.

He was about to say something but Shisui's hand covered his mouth. His eyes communicating what his mouth could not and the elder boy led the younger away into the livingroom. Closing the door behind them.

"Shisui."

"Thank god, Itachi. I thought you were dead," he breathed and pulled the boy close on a whim. Unable to stop himself. "I heard the adults say you were missing. I thought the worst and then you just prance in like some, some-!"

Small hands hooked in the fabric that covered the elder Uchiha's back. "Shisui, are you-?"

"Of course not!" His breath hitched and he knew it was futile to deny it, but hell if he couldn't try. He pressed Itachi's head more firmly into his chest. One hand ruffling the younger Uchiha's hair furiously, ignoring the weak protests of his captive.

He was overwhealmed.

The mission, returning to the village in disarray. Then Itachi and little Sasuke was missing and the servants working in the Clan Head's house said they hadn't been seen since it happened! The rumor of their disappearance was spreading like fire and more than a few already pegged them dead. Shisui had immediately pictured the worst possible case scenario. He'd been ready to go out and search. To track them down, even if he knew that it was possible he would find something he didn't want to.

He squeezed his burning eyes shut. Concentrating on everything but the treacherous tears welling up. Counting Itachi's soft breathing, desperately trying to pace his to it.

"You idiot."

Itachi smiled.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Mikoto gasped.

Unable to pull away, she was left staring into her husband's eyes.

"Don't ever do this to me again, woman." He said, still leaning his forehead into hers. He could see the flush on her pale cheeks. The way she still gasped for air. Kami, he loved this woman. More than he ever thought possible.

She averted her eyes, which was all she could do at the moment. Stuck between the wall and his hard chest she could hardly move as it is. Now, Sasuke was pressing into the seutured wound on her stomach and she felt like wincing, but there was no way she could let him know. No, that would only lead to questions she had no intension of answering. Too many things had happened. Things she couldn't explain.

Things that would have to become secrets.

Which reminded her. She needed to speak to Itachi. Warn him not to mention what had happened.

"Look at me," he whisped. Begged, even. "Come on, Mikoto. Don't do this to me."

"Please, Fugaku." Mikoto winced, knowing that forcing politeness between them after her latest escapade would only make things more bothersome for her. She'd kissed him back and hadn't been able to stop herself!

She shook her head, wrestling her head free and curling in around Sasuke. The boy clutched onto her front. Easily squeezing himself up between them.

Fugaku sighed, face falling as he allowed her some more freedom.

He would like nothing more than to hold her, yet she still refused him. He wanted to shower her with words of how worried he was, but he knew she wouldn't listen. He wanted to show her how afraid he had been. Terrified of what could have happened.

The torrent in his blood was still strong, but he couldn't. _Wouldn't_ force it on her.

"I'm tired," came her soft voice. And it wasn't until then that Fugaku realized how much he had missed it. He'd missed the calming effect it had on him. He hadn't been gone for more than a couple of days yet Mikoto's voice became as essential as oxygen to breathe. He needed it to feel grounded. To feel at home.

"It's been a long couple of days," he said, in more ways than one. "I think we could all use a bit of rest. Please, allow me-"

"I'll take care of it," she cut him off. Her face closed off again and Fugaku couldn't read past the normal facade Mikoto put up. "I'm fine, Fugaku. I.. I need a sense of normalcy. Allow me this, will you?"

He didn't stop her and heard her soft steps echo down the hall.

Only when they'd disappeared entirely did he slam his fist into the wooden doorframe. His teeth burying in the flesh of his lower lip.

"And I don't?" he whispered. A low laugh resounded in the empty hall. "I guess I'm not part of your normal anymore."

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	16. Chapter 16

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** A bit of emotional tangles. **Adult themes.** The beginnings of Fugaku/Mikoto. Mention of **suicide.** Minor **angst** and small emotional breakdowns.

 **A/N** : Thanks for the new favs and follows. I'm still **shocked** that so many are reading this!

My apologies for the long wait. I really have no viable excuse. (Not any you would like to hear anyway..) But I'm setting up several chapters to be ready to post so hopefully, depending on the amount of proofreading I have the time for this weekend, there should be more to come.

Oh, and the road for **Fugaku/Mikoto** is still jumpy, but hopefully, it'll all straighten itself out in the end. There is **mention of intimacy** in this chapter (nothing that explicit), so if it makes you uncomfortable, please skip this chapter or scroll past it once you notice something that might cause mental scarring! It's just that I feel I need to resolve a bit of the tension (OC!Mikoto can be such a –!) I've been growing (unwittingly) between the two in order to move on with the plot. So if this addition causes some of you to drop this fic, then thank you for your time and I hope you enjoyed reading the previous chapters at least!

\- Yours, DustyRabbit.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 16

 **.oOo.**

* * *

That night was filled with episodes of restless sleep and dreams of herself in her early teens. Chasing that beautiful length of garnet red hair. Kushina's bright smiles, so full of mischief as she pulled away from another close call. Blue eyes dancing with mirth as Mikoto huffed while running after her. The dark strands slipping from her fingerstips, just out of reach.

Yet, each time Mikoto awoke, it was to the same emptiness. The same pale ceiling and small, huddled bodies pressing into her.

She was being selfish, she knew.

But Mikoto hadn't been able to let go yet.

Instead she found herself squirreling away a half-asleep Itachi to her room in the middle of the night. Placing her eldest on one side of her bed, beside his younger brother then shamelessly curling up around them. Pulling the covers around them so snugly, that one might think it was a single person lying beneath it. A deep sense of not being able to be alone and expect to keep sane driving her to act utterly ridiculous. Like a bear guarding its cubs from the world.

Pushing through her exhaustion, Mikoto tried her hardest to stay awake. Terrified that all might be missing the next time she opened her eyes.

On some level, Mikoto felt like she could have slept on forever. Her body certainly felt like it. All her aches returning with a vengence now that things had calmed down. But Mikoto _knew_ she could not linger here. She had her children to take care of. She can't give up now.

She'd started over. Chosen to continue living that day she woke and now she'd gotten attached. Too attached to this world to let go now.

Her arms wrapped around the warm bodies beside her. Sasuke was closest, unconsciously snuggling into her in his sleep. Itachi's face, which wasn't really that much further away, was more relaxed than she had seen him in days. Sleeping so peacefully beside them Mikoto silently resolved that she would keep the boy from worrying too much from now on.

He was far too young to have lines developing on his childish face.

...

She'd do it.

She had to. After all, she'd promised.

Mikoto gripped the necklace hanging around her neck, the pendant digging into her palm.

 _I'll wait for you, Kushina._

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"Forgive me."

Dark eyes looked up from where they had been busy staring into the wood of the kitchen table. Chop-sticks sat long forgotten in his hand as he seemed to loose all sense of action, just staring silently at the repenting form.

"I was wrong, foolish and selfish beyond words." He felt his heart flop as she kneeled down beside him. Her hands placed neatly before her, head slightly bowed in submission. "Forgive me."

Never had he seen her like this, yet it was strangely familiar. Like a shadow of the past. And it struck him that this is how Mikoto had been _before_.

His left hand, which was wrapped around his slowly cooling cup of tea, slackened slightly.

Mikoto's head lowered further, her shoulders hunching over slightly. Hands pressed onto her lap.

"I wish to make amends."

Fugaku stared blankly at the top of her head. Her hair had been recently washed, still damp from her morning shower. It smelled faintly of the jasmine shampoo she liked to use. The scent floating through the air and infusing the otherwise lifeless kitchen, sparking his heartbeat. Her pale skin peeking forth at her nape over the loose collar of her kimono.

She was not as neatly dressed as she usually is. Her hair a bit messy still, the strands wild and loose from its regular braid.

His fingers twitched.

The itch to reach out was _strong_. But he needed to understand.. He couldn't just accept without any sort of explanation.

He'd tried. Kami knows Fugaku had decided months ago to try his best to regain Mikoto's trust. But it had been a long and hard endeavor, with little progress and Fugaku found himself scarcely closer to his goal _now_ than he was in the beginning.

He'd given his all... Yet, she still didn't budge.

"Mikoto."

A very subtle ripple started in her form, spreading like an ocean wave and his eyes went wide. His hand rushing forth, catching her trembling hands.

Her face snapped up to his and Fugaku felt a sting in his chest at the soundless tears that welled in her eyes.

Mikoto drew a shallow breath, her throat expanding slightly with the force. He wanted to reach out. To soothe and offer comfort. But he feared doing so would scare her away. She looked so easily spooked right now he was certain Mikoto would draw the wrong conclusions and flee if he did any large, sudden movements.

Her lips fluttered before she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

"I've reached the bottom." There was a tone of finality to her words that set Fugaku on edge. Mikoto swallowed, some of the tears fleeing her eyes to drip off her soft jawline. "And I've realized.. That I can't get up on my own. Not anymore..."

Her hands shifted, moving to encase his larger one. It sent a wave of warmth spreading through him, but it was too sudden. This was all moving too fast! Mikoto's eyes stared into his, suddenly unafraid of whatever she had feared finding there earlier and Fugaku drowned in her dark pools, wondering how he could've ever gone a day without gazing into them. Feel their attention on him, the kind that sent his heart into a wild flutter inside his chest.

"I.." He started, suddenly lost for words. Feeling that whatever he said would break the magical moment. Wake him up to find that it was all a dream and he was still stuck, turning restlessly in his bed.

Then soft lips were pressed to his knuckles. Mikoto's dainty hands holding his up and it seemed impossible to breathe. The air too thin to satisfy the increased oxygen consumption as his body warmed.

"I've already asked too much of you, Fugaku. I've let you down, once again." She paused, grasping for a way to relay what she wished to say to him. "The attack, the chaos that ensued... I should have done more. I should have.."

Fugaku's eyes softened. Insides slowly melting at the honest regret infusing her words.

The Clan had been spared plenty of civilian casualties compared to many other resident clans in Konoha. Most of the Uchiha women and children, the old and unfit had gone for cover in the underground shelters near the clan shrine and thus been spared the brunt of the damage dealt that night.

But Fugaku had heard the whispers.

His clan members had not hesitated in contacting him once he returned. Many of whom were disappointed with the mistress of the clan and her choice of action that night.

A large share of the Uchiha had been deeply concerned about her sudden disappearance. Others accused Mikoto of not taking up her responsibility towards the clan, to lead the clan in his absence. As was her _role_ as Clan mistress.

It was a _functional_ position he had, more or less, relieved her off once Sasuke was born.

Fugaku deemed it better at the time to allow Mikoto some breathing space. Time, to adapt to the changes that took place around her. Time, to readapt to _him._ Without the various pressures of the clan adding further stress on her.

Now, Fugaku realized, not all were as accepting of his choice to exclude Mikoto from the running of the clan as he once thought.

"You cannot be held fully responsible for all that occurred that night. No one could have foreseen what happened. Not the _hokage_ , certainly not _you_. "

A soft sniffle and it shook him, to see the weak smile that appeared at his consoling words.

He straightened, back standing a bit taller. His own lips quirking in response.

"I don't blame you Mikoto and that is all that matters." Fugaku raised his free hand to her cheek. His eyes boring into her as emotions he felt he needed to express came to the surface. "You protected that which is precious to me. You kept Itachi and Sasuke alive, and for that I am thankful."

His thumb brushed at the wet streak that ghosted down her smooth skin. "At this moment, I can't ask more of you."

Then she surprised him even further as she covered his hand with her smaller one, pressing her cheek into his open palm. " _Thank you_."

He was stunned by the utter acceptance in those simple two words and before Fugaku knew it, he was leaning over.

It was a calm, soft kiss. Which was probably why Mikoto didn't struggle against him and it made his heart soar because where he hadn't noticed it the last time, this time he _felt_ it. Fugaku sensed the tentative movements of her lips against his. The soft sighs he coaxed out of her...

It was intoxicating.

Mikoto gasped in surprise as suddenly tatami mats were beneath her clothed back.

Their breaths mingled before them, Fugaku's face paused inches from her own as he hovered above her. Waiting...

She was trapped, in more sense than one, and for the life of her Mikoto couldn't keep her eyes from tracing the sharp lines of his frame. The way his wide shoulders boxed her in, strong arms pushing him off the floor just enough so as to not crush her beneath his weight.

His dark bangs tickled the sides of her face and her fingers twitched with the urge to dig her hands in his hair...

He couldn't tear his eyes off her, but he couldn't make himself move either.

It was like being locked inside his own body, powerless. Because Fugaku knew he shouldn't. He knew he ought to let her be, let this new mutual revelation sink in for the both of them and keep himself from committing another mistake.

But her wide, soulful eyes left him wavering.

In that moment it felt like she saw _him_. All of him! Not just the clan head. Not the political figure, who held influence in the village and decided the fates of many.

Mikoto saw the real Uchiha Fugaku.

The _man_ behind all the visages he displayed in public. The man behind the success. The flesh, blood, mind and beating heart that made him into who he was today.

He watched the tip of her tongue dart out to moisten her lower lip. The action oddly sensual in nature. As if Mikoto was tasting for the remnants of _him_ and it made him grow mad with longing.

A moment of indescribable tension.

Followed by a spell of split-second hesitation.

".. We shouldn't," he said, but wasn't entirely sure he meant it.

Mikoto didn't seem to find it all that convincing either and Fugaku sort of blanked out once he felt her hand creep up his arm to bury her fingers in his hair.

He groaned.

And the wicked smile it drew out of her made his knees weak.

It was progressing far faster than she intended. But somehow, Mikoto couldn't stop herself. It was as if a fire had been sparked inside her. Her body once again reacting without her permission.

Perhaps it was the strain of the last few days? The unbelievable tension with which she'd kept her body upright and functioning for so long...

She just wanted to let go for once.

Mikoto wanted to feel _good_ again.

And Fugaku was her husband by law...

Was it really so wrong for her to feel this way?

Yes, it wasn't the most optimal choice. There probably were much better ways to go about it. But it was bound to happen eventually? Right? At least now Mikoto could choose the moment herself. Fugaku was _more_ than ready for it. She could feel it ooze off him. See it in the intensity of his stare. Fugaku was already halfway lost in the promise, she wouldn't decieve him by much if she decided to indulge him.

Then again, Mikoto wasn't really sure _who_ was the one being _decieved_ in this situation.

Because, while her mind told her that this was _her_ using _him_. Her heart seemed to think otherwise.. There was none of the open contempt she'd felt for him in the beginning. Nor was the man as alien and confusing as she once liked to think.

The way her heart raced despite her attempts to calm it certainly pointed to her being more comfortable around the male...

"Please," she drew out, shifting beneath him uncomfortably. Her hand tugged on his head. Pulling him towards her.

"Mikoto," he rumbled. Fugaku's eyes darkening into pitch black. So dark she could no longer tell where his pupils ended and his obsidian irises started. "You'll regret this later. You're not ready.."

She jerked firmly on his hair, her other hand clutching his shoulder. Eyes urgeant.

"I want this," she said in a calm but firm voice, and if Fugaku ever doubted her intensions they were all made clear now.

She hated to have to resort to this, but something told her that if she backed off now, she wouldn't get another chance in the near future. This prideful man was so stubbornly protective of her when he wanted to and it was not always in her favor! She placed a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth, trailing her lips up his jaw to where his ear came within reach.

Mikoto stretched beneath him and it was bewitching in all the right ways to feel her body touch his. The heat between them intensifying further.

"I _need_ you."

And Mikoto thought she'd never been so honest in her whole life.

Not here, not in her past. It was like unleashing a tightly kept secret and now she was free to breathe again. To taste the boundless freedom such a thing offered.

She mewled as he silenced her.

Eager lips moving against hers. Testing, coaxing.. As if afraid that she was going to back out at the last minute.

Her arms responded in full. Hands moving, exploring. Being pulled into the fervor with which he drew her in.

 _Enticing_ the heat that pooled in her abdomen.

"Fu-Fugaku..." She gasped, her hands clutching at tensing shoulder muscles as they worked. His hard body becoming all the more rigid against her own the closer Fugaku came to the smoothness of her flesh.

A large hand mapped the outside curve of her hip. The other steadily gliding its way up her loosely covered thigh, gently separating the two sides of her kimono from its hem and upwards.

She sighed, arching upwards a bit and Fugaku used the opportunity to snake an arm around her waist. His mouth leaving hers to trail down her neck. Leaving burning kisses in its wake.

"Mikoto.." he whispered, his lips following the curve of her slender, pale collum. His nose running up the groove that separated the muscle from the fragile vessels hidden beneath. Feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse. "My Mikoto.."

Her head rolled sideways, her hips inviting him in and he accepted. Sliding his clothed body deftly between her creamy thighs to grind into her.

 _Hissing_ , because he knew.

Fugaku was very conscious of what waited on the other side and right now there were only flimsy layers of fabric separating _him_ from _her_.

His hand caught on the knot holding her sash in place. Slipping beneath its embroidered facade for a moment before returning to work on its offending bulk.

Delicate hands grasped his bottom _hard_ in response and Fugaku found himself smiling against her throat. The deep, rumbling chuckle that followed drawing an impatient whine from Mikoto.

"Kaa-san?"

Fugaku froze in place at the gentle enquiry, his mouth detaching from the mark he was currently placing on Mikoto's creamy skin.

Eyes rose to meet two pairs of perplexed obsidian.

A profusely red color covered Sasuke's smaller face, which was accompanied by a deep look of concentration. The baby held closely in his big brother's arms, Itachi looking very much dazed as if he had just awoken from his sleep.

 _Thankfully_ , Fugaku thought as he didn't really fancy the idea of explaining to his inquisitive six-year-old what he was doing to his mother.

Mikoto looked as mortified as he did, her cheeks quickly turning a becoming shade of red. Though, if the blush was because of their sons' untimely discovery of their current position or the success of Fugaku's own ministrations remained to be ascertained. Fugaku certainly hoped it was the latter..

Itachi swept his sluggishly blinking eyes over the pair, finding the closeness between them odd but said nothing. In fact, he was more concerned with the current problem at hand.

"I think Sasuke needs a nappy change."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

He slowly drew his right eye open once he sensed the presence enter through the door.

The man was more than capable of hiding his presence, which was why Kakashi was currently steeling himself. Every part of him on high alert around the old man. A man who had replaced his hokage. His.. _sensei._

"I see you managed to get a room for yourself."

Kakashi didn't even bother to answer the fake surprise and cleverly hidden amusement in the geriatric Sarutobi's voice. The man knew very well that Kakashi had been placed here for a reason. Actually, it was not hard for anyone with even _half_ a brain to figure out _why_.

Which is why Kakashi chose to remain stubbornly silent. The only sound being the continuous _drip drip drip_ of fluid through his iv.

His behaviour was considerably childish and out of character for the teen. Kakashi was well aware of it. Which made the growing amusement on the Sandaime's face all the more frustrating.

Kakashi's eye swerved deliberately towards the sole window in the hospital room. One that he had fought hands and teeth to get open, but failed miserably. The thrice damned containment seals keeping the see-through oriface shut.

Not that he would have gotten far, not really...

He ignored the deep ache that still permeated his thigh. The cast was in place and the most of the flesh wound had already healed. But the damage to the bone still remained, left to heal normally as knitting bone together with chakra left weaker results than allowing the body to heal it on its own..

The bone injury itself was proof of his own stupidity.

Because somehow he'd cracked his femur and _not_ snapped it the whole way. Then, too blinded by the pain of his speared through thigh muscle, his body apparently forgot about such an important detail. Which meant he'd been moving about with injuries that could have become much, much worse if he'd just twisted his step a bit...

He gripped the thin sheet covering his lower body.

"I know you're not really in a very talkative mood. Few are, these days. Except those damn councilmen, can't seem to stop pestering me every minute of the day..."

Kakashi's nails digged deeper.

Sarutobi sighed.

"I'll be frank with you, Kakashi-kun. I sincerely hope that you can shed som light into this whole affair. After all, not many individuals were present at the key events of that.. _night_." He reached for something in his pocket. His words softening with something undescribable, showing he was still capable of human emotion, despite his usual stern visage. Even if the Sandaime had shown that side of him less and less these past few days. "Minato would have wanted you to have this."

Kakashi's body jerked as something cold fell into his hand. The weight heavy and familiar. But the sight of it was too damning, too much of a remainder of what he'd failed to protect that the young jounin wished the Hokage had never given it to him.

"It was all we could find of him. Besides some scattered weapons. He's lucky that three-pronged kunai of his is so distinct. Otherwise, I fear we would have overlooked the site all together," Hiruzen continued, studying the teen's reaction. Hatake Kakashi might think himself emotionless and controlled, but he was oddly expressive when one pushed the right triggers. "That and _this_."

Kakashi's grey eye left the worn piece of metal that had once adorned the brow of the man he'd come to respect the most in all of the ninja nations. He was almost like a second father to him. Yet, the sight of the cracked piece of clay, carefully wrought and painted with that damned tiger-striped pattern was almost equally shocking. An exact replica of the mask the man that had tried to kill him just days before wore to hide his identity.

His canines dug into his lower lip until he tasted blood and Kakashi fought the tension that started to clench his form.

"It was found at ground zero. _After_ the Kyuubi disappeared." The old Hokage's eyes grew cold. Void of all previous sentiment. "I do not think I need to say that the damage found there was extensive. The strength of the kyuubi is not to be belittled nor easily underestimated. Minato knew this, which was why he relocated the ninetails out of Konoha with his space-time jutsu. To save the remains of the village from further destruction."

The infused bitterness was harsh, but not cruel in nature. All Hokages knew the importance of sacrifice. Hiruzen, especially, was no stranger to it. Often having to accept the small victories earned from great losses. But the events of the Tenth were more than just collateral damage and easily replaced infrastructure. These were the lost _lives_ of almost a fifth of Kohona's resident population. Civilians.. Shinobi.. Many of whom Sarutobi knew personally. With his own late wife being one among them.

"Something went seriously _wrong_ and I want to know what."

The young Hatake's mismatched eyes landed on him. So intelligent but oh, so naïve. At the moment _anything_ could sway the young jounin if only suggested in the right manner.

"Minato's _dead_."

Those saddened eyes became, if possible, even more empty. Loosing their last sign of hope and the old hokage was well aware that he must tread carefully now or risk damaging the youth too deeply. Sarutobi was already short on manpower, there was no point in driving his remaining skilled shinobi to commit suicide. That was plain counter-productive during such troubled times. But Sarutobi craved stable, reliable information more than he cared for any hurt feelings he could cause with his insensitive words right now.

And Hatake Kakashi was the keeper of it.

He could very well hold the very fate of their village in his scarred hands and damn it, Hiruzen wished to know! What had happened? What had gone so wrong with the carefully laid plans of a genius even Sarutobi had acknowledged? One he had chosen to entrust his hard worked for legacy and precious village to...

"No body could be found, but neither was Kushina's. So we can only assume that the corrosive chakra of the Kyuubi disintegrated their corpses beyond recognition as it did most of the fauna where the fight took place."

 _Ah. So he doesn't know._

The boy's head lowered and Hiruzen knew he'd hit the right spot.

"What.. What about..?" Kakashi stopped. A strange itching sensation starting behind Obito's eye that took him by surprise. His throat felt thick. Stuffed full of paper and it seemed impossible to get another word in.

"No one really knows what happened to the kyuubi," the Sandaime said, watching him closely. Catching the way the jounin's chakra burnt fists clenched, causing the fragile skin to crackle and bleed again. "Scouts have confirmed that it is not roaming anywhere near Fire country. Whether that is a good or a bad sign.. Only Kami knows."

His voice grew more grave. "From the documents left behind by the Yondaime the likelyhood of the Kyuubi escaping its bonds of confinement is low, except when the seal and its holder is simultaneously weakened. Usually, if the vessel is dead, the beast dies with it. But without it's jinchuuriki it won't be long before the tailed beast regains it shape. The kyuubi is, after all, only a conscious, malevolent mass of chakra. The highest of its order, which makes it quicker to reform under the influence of nature's rules regarding chakra realignment..."

 _They don't know. They never knew..._

Kakashi calmed his breathing. Wondering how the man could bypass the vital part of _what_ caused the seal to weaken in the first place. How could the Sandaime willingly ignore the fact that more lives had been lost? Because nobody ever said anything about Naruto.. A fact that caused Kakashi's stomach to drop out on him.

 _And Kushina.._

Was that all Kushina-san was to them? A container? A simple means to an end?

 _They never cared..._

Memories of the lively kunoichi battling it out with his sensei while still managing to keep a grin on her face made his chest hurt.

They never were that close. Never did he willingly insert himself into the surrogate cohesion of a family they liked to build around him after his father killed himself. But he'd become _attached_. No matter how hard Kakashi had tried to distance himself from them. To keep the association merely professional.

An apprentice and his mentor.

Grasping, but holding the duo as far away from himself as his arms would allow. Never brave enough to pull them in but neither strong enough to let them go fully.

Placing all his hope in a conjured up wall, which was slowly being chipped down into nothing but a thin layer of denial.

Because it was inevitable that he'd give in eventually.

Because almost as much as he felt he _needed_ Minato-sensei around, Kushina had sucessfully weaseled her way into his life. Into his heart. Spinning a net of safety and undeniable belonging that only family members could offer. More than his father. Who'd been away far more than he'd been home during the scant years they lived together. More than his mother, who Kakashi barely retained any memories of, other than the soft smile left on her kind face as she stared back at him from the worn picture frame hidden in his cupboard. More than the team-members he'd found and lost almost as quickly.

Minato had been an unescapable _constant_ and Kushina hadn't been very far behind.

And he'd allowed them.

Kakashi had unwittingly given them a chance. Baring his fragile and already deeply scarred heart.

And now he'd lost them.

"..Anything you have to share on the situation would be a great help to the ongoing investigation. It's not official yet. But I can say this now, Kakashi-kun. I do not believe the Kyuubi's rampage and the death of our beloved Yondaime to be a mere coincidence. Something or _someone_ orchestrated this and I intend to get to the very bottom of it."

Kakashi watched the old man turn, walk away towards the window bleeding pale morning light into the room after leaving the porcelain mask behind. The thing resting like a physical taunt against the frame at end of the bed, staring at him. Mocking him through that single hole that once contained such cold-blooded disdain.

"If anyone intended to use this event to hurt Konoha it is of highest priority that we find the culprit. It is a sad fate, but we need to keep the kyuubi from falling into the wrong hands before it's too late..."

 _For what..?_ Was the only thought echoing inside the masked shinobi's head. Something that had started to nag on Kakashi more and more lately, as soon as he realized that he was once again alone in the world.

"Without the Uzumaki bloodline to harness its powers, the kyuubi is more likely to be used against us than protect us. Such is the root of all things evil."

Kakashi allowed the Sandaime's voice to drone on and on, no longer listening. Because his mind was stuck wondering for _what_ everybody he'd ever cared about had sacrificed themselves. _For the village?_ Was that it? This ungrateful place?

Sarutobi's face hardened. His lips thinning into a stern line. "All it seeks is to destroy."

Kakashi stared at his hands.

Pale, scarred hands once drenched in the blood of his enemies. Stained by the sacrifice of his comrades. Humans he'd slain for his village. For the sake of the mission. People, who's loss he'd accepted without question. Without even demanding a reason _why_. Simply concluded it was the way the world worked and he was impossible to stop it. The inevitable bloodshed that followed him wherever he went.

 _Minato-sensei_... _Is this what you were talking about?_

Kakashi knew everything had an ugly side, but he never thought to find one so close to home.

Closer than he ever thought possible. They'd just been too blind to see it. To notice that their own reflections staring back at them no longer looked human.

 _They were all monsters. All of them._

* * *

 _ **To be continued...**_


	17. Chapter 17

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** A bit of emotional tangles. **Adult themes.** The beginnings of Fugaku/Mikoto. Mention of **suicide.** Minor **angst** and small emotional breakdowns. Implied **violence**. Evil plotting.

 **A/N:** Less than a week left to Christmas! Enjoy – DustyRabbit.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 17

 **.oOo.**

* * *

The low hum of his fridge made an eerie sound through the otherwise silent one-room apartment. He guessed he should count himself lucky it was as lightly damaged as it was. Other buildings in the area hadn't been nearly as fortunate. Still, the lack of living chakra presences in the apartment building made the place feel almost haunted. Even more so, since the shinobi owned property usually sported a few carefully checked resting shinobi signatures even during day time.

Now that most of the able bodied ninja were busy with missions and village work, it made Kakashi's current incapacitated state even worse.

 _A ninja, charged with bedrest..._ The humiliation was staggering. He had a skeletal injury, not an amputated limb! But he'd promised to adhere to the conditions of his release. And if it was this or being locked inside that sharp smelling hospital room for another two weeks, Kakashi would choose resting in his own home no matter the terms.

That did not mean he was comfortable it, not at all. In fact, Kakashi can't remember the last time he'd been on leave for more than three days...

Even in his privacy of his own apartment, his mind wandered.

Ever since the Hokage visited him days ago with those dreadful news there was one thing constantly on his mind.

He gripped the worn and dirtied hitai-ate in his hand. The metal piece digging into his callused palm, not enough to draw blood but sharp enough to cause pain.

Minato-sensei would forgive him.

He'd done his best to help with the ongoing investigation. Not that Kakashi had much more to offer the old man than the Hokage had already figured out on his own.

Unknown male attacker. Highly skilled, probably jounin level or higher. With no distictive features beyond the ceramic mask that hid his face.

It became extremely frustrating contemplating it, because Kakashi knew that this was the man that had ultimately led to the demise of his teacher and mentor. To Kushina. Yet, he couldn't supply the Intelligence department with a name. Not even a motif, beyond the fact that the masked man clearly had something against Konoha as a whole. Enough to attack the Village Jinchuuriki and fight the renown Yondaime with the intent to kill.

If he succeeded or if the Yondaime's death simply was the price to pay for fending off the Kyuubi, Kakashi would never know. Because there were no leads, no trail to follow or let them know if the _masked man_ was still amongst the living.

He opened his palm, watching the glint of light bounce off the metal. The leaf symbol almost mocking, without a scratch or scuff mark on it. Which was not all that surpising, the Yondaime was untouchable. The single Konoha shinobi with a 'flee on sight' recommendation in the bingo book. Yet the dark fabric still smelled strongly of blood. Unmistakable dark smears staining marine blue.

He drew a deep breath, but froze the minute he did. Mouth opening a bit in surprise before he carefully took another slow lungfull.

Mismatched eyes narrowed.

At the hospital Kakashi did not notice it. But here, at home, it was so much clearer. There were no distracting smells of festering wounds or disinfectant. Nor was there any need for him to wear his mask in the privacy of his own home.

For once, he cursed his habit of covering his face. His sensitive nose now registered a faint smell that certainly did not belong to Minato-sensei.

 _Frog-summons_ , he thought derisively, before a crooked smile spread across his face remembering the fierce reprimand his sensei once gave him for calling the esteemed toad clan such. His sensei's contracted animals were always prickly about being confused for their smaller amphibian relatives.

The small hope he'd found in recognizing the smell soon flickered out, however, as he remembered the Hokage's recount of how Minato-sensei summoned the Toad boss to help fight the Kyuubi. Of course, he'd have the scent of toads clinging to it. The things _smelled_ , and not in a good way either.

His canine instincts caused his nose to wrinkle in disgust just thinking of it.

Kakashi never understood how Jiraiya-sama and Minato-sensei could stand the smell. Then again, they didn't have the same enhanced sense of smell he had.

He dragged himself off the bed, using the crutch they'd given him Kakashi propelled himself over to his small kitchenette. He didn't need to check the fridge to know that it was empty. He'd been busy with ANBU work long before the Kyuubi attack and thus had favored staying at the ANBU headquarters more than in his own apartment. It was just easier that way, he told himself. It was certainly not the empty walls or ghost-like faces staring from his genin-team photo that kept him away...

Rummaging through his cupboards, he pressed past half-full packages of flour and rice until he reached the far back. Regrettably, since he was currently out of milk Kakashi had to ignore the opened pack of bran cereals he'd once bought after another lecture to eat more healthily and instead opted for the plastic covered cups of instant _ramen_ he had stocked away.

He grimaced, pulling the offending item out.

Waiting for the water to boil he contemplated how his life had become this? How could he have sunken so low as to have to resort to warming cup ramen, of all things?

He sighed, blowing at the scolding liquid cup once the three minutes passed.

With some difficulty, Kakashi lowered himself to the floor. His chop-sticks picking on the stringy noodles within.

This would become more of a routine now, he guessed.

Usually, Minato or Kushina would drag him out of his apartment between missions to see to it that he ate some proper meals every now and then. Kakashi was a terrible cook, after all. He would not deny it. He was not ashamed to admit he probably owed most of his height to Kushina-san, who had taken it as some kind of personal mission to stuff as much nutricious food as possible down his throat whenever she could.

Not that Kakashi minded.

Kushina-san's cooking was heavenly compared to pre-made convenience store meals and take out he otherwise survived on. Even if the woman often times made more homemade ramen than Kakashi could stomach at times.

Still, his sensei looked so happy whenever they ate dinner together Kakashi couldn't force himself to complain about his wife's obsession.

He'd quickly realized that Kakashi would give in to Kushina's wishes as long as it kept them happy.

And they'd been happy. More now when awating the arrival of the baby than Kakashi had seen them before.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyesockets. Trying to smother the heat he could feel building there.

This was no time to be sentimental. He would honor their memory, as he always did with those he'd lost. But he would not let their deaths cripple him. Not until he'd dealt justice to those that caused their deaths.

He sent a heavy stare at the hitai-ate on his bed. The metal glinting at him once more.

He would not let their deaths be in vain.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

A slow drip, drip, drip echoed in the dim cave.

Then a door creaked and revealed a tall, ghost-like frame. Yellow eyes pierced through the dark before they finally settled on the figure sitting, one leg raised up, on the bench-like protrusion below the barred vent in the wall.

"I take it you're finished?" the low rumble echoed down the room but the newcomer was not that unexperienced to flinch from such an impatient tone.

Instead, the man reached into his pocket, withdrawing several viles of bodily fluids and questionable samples most would recoil at seeing, but to him they were worth their weight in gold. The man in question did not feel any aversion towards doing such dirty work, these things were standard procedure and the amount of information the specimens would provide him with was well worth the work and time it took collecting them.

Red eyes flashed at him through the dark – demanding without words an answer to his query.

"These things take time," the tall man hissed before walking forward and setting an assortment of tubes, mainly the chakra samples, in a wire rack on the lone table in the room. "But yes, I have done what I could. Which, admittedly, isn't much."

The eyes narrowed and the snake-like man felt like scoffing at the proposed violence in them.

"I brought you the materials you asked for," the low voice argued, anger already infiltrating the normally detached tone. "We had a deal."

"You brought me a _corpse_ ," Orochimaru spat. "Restoring flesh is easy. But that is all it will ever be. A slab of mindless meat."

"You said-"

"The Niidaime's technique is flawed," he cut off. "Far from the perfection it was made out to be."

Orochimaru tapped one of the viles, watching the matter within shift lazily.

"That is why it was put out of use." He sweeped across the room, returning one of the scrolls that had been so gladly procured for him. "These records should have been destroyed once it became apparent how much the cost and consequences outweigh the benefits. Not eternalized in the village jutsu storage vaults. Forbidden jutsu or not, it was a failure from the start. But Sarutobi, the old fool... He is too weak willed to destroy such genius, however underdeveloped the jutsu may be."

The masked man turned in his direction, leather gloved fingers rapping on his knee in an ominous beat. If the leaking tainted chakra made the snake man nervous, it didn't show. But the miniscule smirk on the sannin's lips was enough to strenghten Orochimaru's resolve as he watched the lethargic spin of tomoes within those two eye-holes.

"That is not to say it cannot be perfected." His snake-like eyes slid predatorily over the man's lanky form, as if daring him to try anything. Orochimaru knew he held the cards now. This man needed his services _._ And Orochimaru hated not exploiting resources. Especially not when things were catered to his preferences, offered on a silver platter none the less. "With enough time and experimentation.. _anything_ is possible," he said in an outdrawn hiss, clearly enjoying himself.

The masked man rose from his seat, striding up as if to pass the snake sannin but paused alongside him, menecing eyes glowing at him out of the dark openings of his mask. Voice dropping into the lower cases, rumbling dangerously. " _What do you need_?"

The maniacal grin on the old sannin grew wider. The familiar itch of curiosity burning along his spine, up and out into his fingertips once more. Still, it wouldn't do to push his luck. This man was far too short tempered to allow his selfish whims if not heavily disguised as something that would pay in the Uchiha's favor. "I'll prepare a list."

The door slammed behind him and crimson eyes narrowed as he glared down at the form half-buried in a sea of ice. Irritation sprouted in the pit of his stomach just watching the now pale features, the closed eyes so peaceful looking that one could think the brightly haired man was merely sleeping.

But he knew better.

He'd watched the man have his soul wrenched out of him, dragged out by the icy blade of the Death god. The damn deity chaining the kyuubi's chakra with it down the the last stubborn molecule.

 _Fight poison with poison._ It was such an obvious conclusion, but he never thought the Yondaime would have the guts to resort to it. Pure chakra was almost impossible to contain, even with the help of powerful Uzumaki seals. To enclose the monsterous amount that comprised the will of the Kyuubi was accordingly made a thousand times harder. Its entire being tainted by the hatred fed by humans over the centuries.

But it had been done before.

The Uzumaki had made an art of it. Their genetics were perfect for it. The perfect flesh and blood vessels to contain such an influx in chakra. Their coils already predisposed towards having insane amounts of it running through their system. But in the end, even the Uzumaki were mortal. And as the laws of nature inevitably take their course, they would one day _die_ despite their genetical longevity.

Whatever idiot decided to exterminate the last breeding stock of the only clan in existance able to harness such power must be turning in their graves about now. Or he would make them, one day. When he showed the world just how much of a difference accomodating such a force could make on the future of the Shinobi nations.

He'd countered it with a plan of his own.

A tedious, detailed one. Spun over years and years of grubbling in solitude, looking over his mistakes and brooding on their consequences. Where he had gone wrong. His master plan had progressed to the point where he found it almost fool proof. Because _owning_ the kyuubi and _controlling_ it was two entirely different matters.

Subjecting the ninetails to the will of a single man was no easy feat.

Something only three clans in history had ever amounted to:

The Uzumaki, with their sealing chakra chains. Utilizing sheer strength to force the beast into submission.

 _Hashirama Senju_ with that damned mokuton ability of his, a bloodline only known to ever have manifested in a single individual. The very same man that through his misguided belief in the better of humanity and self-sacrifice would one day become the first Hokage. A genetic trait which had consequently disappeared along with the man into the dusty tomes of history once he successfully drained Hashirama's life during their last battle, in much the same way as the lifeblood dripping out of his childhood friend's fatal wound

And then it was the Uchiha.

Dangerously proud and debilitated by their self-inflicted delusions of superiority. Blood steeped demons in all but name. Their cursed existence was almost mockingly fitting to such a task, and _what a task_ it was! That only through blood and tears could they master enough power to push ancient beast to their knees. Push their influence onto them until they could barely tell the difference between the bestial chakra and their own.

Yes. By all means, his plan should have been impossible to derail. He had the means, he only needed the opportunity and then the Kyuubi would be his. The first sequence set in motion, which would ultimately lead to his final goal. He had nearly tasted victory. His long-awaited accomplishment at arms reach.

What he hadn't counted on was the strong-willed reaction of his thrice damned relatives.

The Yondaime could have been dealt with. He'd actually taken an insane amount of pleasure out of watching the man, who embodied everything he was not, die a most painful death. Fulfulling the part he'd forced the man into, indirectly driving him to do exactly _that_ which the newfound father feared and despaired of the most.

He could almost _smell_ the guilt and self-hatred lying heavily in the air and he'd revelled in it.

 _See what that pitiful affection for Konoha almost did to you?_

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, the cool air that brushed his skin after the removal of his mask was a refreshing contrast to the ceramic which was stifling at best. But it was also enough to clear his mind of unnecessary imput.

And he needed a clear head to come up with another course of action.

His carefully laid plans might have gotten shaken, but they were still salvagable. He'd planted his seeds, invested in the already twisted characters that ghosted the Konoha underground network and imbued the very foundations of Kohona. All he needed to do now was wait and bide his time. The first crack had been made. Konoha would not be back on its feet for a long time yet and was practically baring its soft underbelly to the world. He'd just have to choose the right blade, the right tool to cut that soft, warm flesh open. Gutted and left for dead, let's see how the proud shinobi village pulls itself together.

He chuckled, the low sounds bouncing off the walls.

Gloved fingers wrapped around that pale throat, right over the scarring where his own battle-fan had nicked a bright red line. Now only a thin, pearly-white sliver. The pulse beneath his hand was sluggish, his heartbeat slow from the forcefully induced hypothermia.

 _Life_ hanging on by a thread.

Lips parted, barely open as he sucked in a shaky breath. The voices inside him encouraging. It would be so easy. Just a quick clench, enough to cause delicate bones and cartilage to cave in on themselves. The human body was frail that way. Succeptable to pressure and the unforgiving weight of dirt and stone.

He could do it.

Watch the light once more fade out of those familiar blue eyes. The confident eyes that failed to see until it was too late. Missed the small rocks that started the landslide and now it was unstoppable.

Things were set in motion that could not be made undone.

He would see it to the end.

And Konoha would just have to watch as it was shredded into bloody pieces in the most gruesome way possible.

Fingers trail up to jerk the neutrally set face upwards, his hold on the jaw almost bruising.

 _Control yourself._

 _Oh, fuck off._

Sharingans narrowed down, spinning wildly as they memorised the face. One that once evoked admiration and hero-worship in the lost soul that was Obito.

But he wasn't much of a hero now, was he?

 _No_.. He was just a shell left behind in a world that took sacrifice for granted. In the end they were all but tools in a world were every single one of them were exspendable.

 _Replacable_.

"Liberty in death is a myth, Minato-sensei. It is when the true nightmare begins."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Another shuriken buried itself in the ceiling. The pattern already outlining the first kanji of his name. Staring at his felt ominous. But in the boredom of his own room he couldn't stop himself.

He could hear the claws scratching the wood of his bedroom door. The damn feline was stubborn, a perfect example of an Uchiha. At least, that was what his father told him when he brought it home five years ago.

The ninja felines contracted to their clan were proud and incredibly wily animals. But Shisui was convinced that Tama, the stray feline that was everything but trained to serve its master, chose _them_ instead of the other way around. From the first day the slimlined alley cat had danced inside their household like it owned the place. Making its marks on the family home and furniture, searing its presence into the hearts of its inhabitants.

Downstairs, he could hear his mother throwing together a meal out of leftovers from lastnight. Not that Shisui cared what they ate. He was just glad that his mother was making a mess in the kitchen again instead of lying in the ground somewhere six feet under.

The relief he felt finding his mother safe and sound in one of the shelters of the clan upon his return to the village was staggering. Shisui thought he'd find the Uchiha compound in a similar state as the rest of Konoha. But the few blocks that were claimed by the clan were mostly unscathed, leaving a few of the less sturdy main street shops shaken by the shocks of crashing jutsus.

He'd spent many days helping to clear out some of the less fortunate areas around the village. The Uchiha Military Police had been working all over the place at near full capacity ever since they returned from their mission. Assisting where there was need and in general trying to keep order when fights broke out among the civilian populace.

It was not all without repercussions, however.

He still remembered being spat on. Hearing the strong words of a gruff man in the civilian merchant district chewing him out when he busily helped a neighbouring family organize their stuff, strewn haphazardly outside the torn up building side that had once been the beautiful front of a home.

 _Death_ lingered over everyone.

Hurtful memories, still to strong to forget caused the village to ache.

Shisui knew that he couldn't damand more of them considering the situation. But the growing agitation among the civilians were becoming harder and harder to handle. As days turned into weeks Shinobi-civilian interaction came down to an all time low. Mostly because Konoha active shinobi were too busy with shinobi duties, they had no time to coddle the still mentally scarred civilian population.

By default, that meant the Uchiha clan became the main negotiator when it concerned the welfare of the people. But also the main receiver of complaints.

 _Responsibility_.

A heavy word filled with a thousand meanings and it had become even harder to bear recently what with the growing animosity. The slowly simmering unrest that gradually gave way to scornful gazes and harsh words.

Things were expected of them as the embodiment of law and order. Konoha was reliant on the civilian's internal contributions to the village economy. The will of fire demanded they take care of their own, yet the village had no resources for it. What with the strong front they had to put up to fend of their likely enemies funds had been strained to cover day-to-day expences.

The Uchiha themselves had no means to provide the care the civilians were screaming for. The clan was already spreading itself thin, sharing the secret emergency supplies they had stored away these last few decennia in their heavy vaults.

So, Uchiha Shisui could but watch through the eyes of a bystander as the reluctant reliance slowly turned into jealousy and dared he say malcontent?

It was odd. Feeling their eyes on him. Watching faces turn to him and his kin with increasingly fake expressions of gratitude. Hidden intent of something he could not put a name on lingering beneath the surface.

 _'Ah, it's the Uchiha.'_

 _'Look! It's them again...'_

 _'Why are they-'_

 _'.. they're always watching. Those red eyes-!'_

The door creaked and Shisui released a loud ' _oomph_ ' as air was promptly knocked out of him by thin, pin like legs jabbing into his stomach.

He peeked an eye open, a loud purring meeting him as pitch black fur was brushed up against his face.

"He was scratching at the door."

Shisui grasped the slim torso of the feline, tugging Tama and subsequently the cat's razor sharp claws off him. Icy blue peered down at him, narrowing as if only now realizing he had been denied his show of affection.

"I know," Shisui grumbled, not daring to tear his eyes off the cat. Claws that sharp really shouldn't be left unsupervised anywhere near his eyes. "I shut him out for a reason."

"Your mother said its bad to force boundraries between you and those that care for you. Especially on Tama, he doesn't understand _why_."

"Yes, well, _you_ should understand what it means." Shisui set the cat down on the bed, heaving himself up to a seat and running fingers through his mess of dark curls. "A closed door is shut for a reason, Itachi."

Itachi ran hands through Tama's soft, silky fur as the cat went on fervently kneading the younger Uchiha's thighs like there was no tomorrow. "I _did_ knock."

The elder Uchiha blinked. Then tackled the younger onto his back with a quick arm hook. Itachi's loud _squeek_ was not wholly unexpected, nor the following bout of squirming as Shisui gave him a thorough noogie. Understandably, the offended Tama stalked away from the dawning grappling session, hopping up to settle on the padded deskchair by the window instead.

"Stop, stop!"

"Do you give?"

Itachi wrestled a bit more, but it was impossible. The iron-tight grip around his head did not loosen.

"Fine."

Shisui raised a brow, waiting.

Itachi rolled his eyes. "Fine, I give."

Shisui rolled off the bed, grasping for the hitai-ate on his desk. Itachi was struggling with his hair when he turned around. His grin broadened as he watched the disheveled state of his normally pristine cousin.

Itachi dropped his hands to his lap and it did not take much for Shisui to notice the slight tremble to them. His face softened.

"I heard you awoke your sharingan."

Dark eyes rose to meet his. Those wide orbs staring back with a sense of resigned exasperation. Something that should not be found on such a young boy's face.

Shisui stepped up, quickly invading every wall of privacy as he set his hands on either side of Itachi's eyes.

His face completely serious. " _Show me_."

Itachi shuddered, veiling those eyes before opening them to the world once more, a deep shade of crimson like the blood fresh out of a wound. Tomoes spinning guardedly, one in his left and two in the right.

"So many already.." Shisui mumbled, unable to make himself ask how it felt to have such a scewed power distrubution. A rare sight in one of his kinsman. Which made him wonder if perhaps whatever happened to the boy was so traumatizing that the sharingan matured straight through two stages in one go? Or was it simply caught mid-process? Judging by the new scars and calluses on the boy's hands he hadn't been idle these last few days. Was the superior Uchiha genes working in his cousins favor?

Shisui frowned. "What did you see?"

It was not something he wished to answer, he didn't want to reminisce the gut wrenching feeling that pulled the dormant power out of him. Instead Itachi focused on his elder cousin, stare matching Shisui's own. Sharingan meeting sharingan, only Shisui's was different. The fully matured triple tomoe pattern spun quickly, as if centering on his own. Judging its inherent strength. Itachi could see something shift inside those red eyes, a lingering entity just beneath the surface. Ready to jump at him at the slightest sign of defiance.

His father's was not the same.

So Itachi guessed that each individual sharingan had slight, miniscule differences to them. Only, with Shisui he just couldn't figure out what.

Shisui was nine when he was indoctrinated and made an adult in the eye of the clan, allowed into the deepest part of the Uchiha Clan due to his matured dojutsu.

A genius in his own right.

Itachi could imagine himself doing the same...

They'd grown up differently. Shisui closer to war than Itachi. Because whereas Itachi had only seen the tail end of it, Shisui had lived through it. The early years of his shinobi training forever stained by the senseless killings of nations pitted against each other.

Itachi had witnessed firsthand the change the war brought his cousin. The effects it had on the sweet boy who was like a brother to him, which had slowly been replaced by a different person alltogether. His smiles, which became far less frequent every year. The change in behaviour, which was meant to compensate for the loss of self he'd experienced.

Itachi had seen it all with his young eyes and he'd never liked it one bit.

It had only strengthened his resolve and longing for peace and tranquility. Because he knew the remnants of his naïve childhood thought it would bring the real Shisui back. The Shisui that would smile at him with untroubled eyes. Who didn't feel the need to hide his shadows behind controlled experssions of calm.

Seeing past his fascination with his younger cousin's doujutsu, Shisui ruffled the younger boy's hair.

"Sorry, kid. Forget I asked, alright?"

Itachi watched the slight stiffness to his cousins back. The boy seeming so much more like an adult, walking away stoically towards the door.

Itachi looked down on his own trembling hands. The strength of it had eased somewhat, but it had been days since it started and it had not fully disappeared yet. Perhaps it was the strong emotional wound, being so close to death multiple times in a matter of days? Seeing everything you hold dear threatened in an instant...

He pushed down the bile rising in his throat. The same sensation he felt when his father once brought him to overlook the distant battlefield so long ago. The memory was blurry and distant in comparison, faded from years of compartmentalizing but he knew his young mind couldn't fully repress all of it. The sights and smells still remained there, deep down in his mindscape that kept the more horrid parts of his life experiences from conscious thought. The exact same space he'd stuffed the masked man and the glassy, dead eyes of his mother that continued to ghost his nightmares.

Unforgettable.

But he'd promised not to tell.

Assured his mother that he would hold true to his word. Even if he didn't like it.

There was a history there he couldn't place. Something that should not be left alone and in the dark. Mind pressing itself to make the connections he knew were there, but was unable to see.

A slap on wood rocked him out of his thoughts and he raised his head to watch Shisui smile over his shoulder.

"How about we go get some dango? There might not be a lot left, but I'm sure mom has some stashed away somewhere..."

Itachi was speechless for a moment, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from serious to lighthearted affection.

But Itachi never was one to deny himself his favorite sweet when offered so freely.

Especially not when such a radiant smile was beeming his way.

* * *

 _ **# To be continued...**_


	18. Chapter 18

****Warning: OC**** and serious screw up of original canon/timeline. ****NonCanon.**** Tiny Itachi. Actually emotional Fugaku. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** A bit of emotional tangles. **Adult themes.** The beginnings of **Fugaku/Mikoto**. Brotherly feels. Playful/flirty Uchihas. **Naughty Sasuke.** Innuendos. Lots and lots of feels. Do I have to say more?

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 18

 **.oOo.**

* * *

 _Weeks later.._

* * *

Things had been kind of strained lately. The air in the house having turned awfully thick, though Itachi wasn't complaining about the sudden increase in brooding that was made in the Uchiha clan head's household.

If anything, it made his parents spend more time around the house than off gallavanting around the compound.

Though, the general tip-toeing around each other was somewhat comical to watch.

Itachi lifted his hands a bit. Watching with fascination as Sasuke held on to his fingers with a death grip, allowing his upper body to lift off the floor with Itachi's movement.

Sasuke had become more and more active lately, the spell of caution finally broken and it was such a relief. Because Itachi had secretly feared that the damage from the burns on his back would have traumatized Sasuke enough to keep him from acting like the baby he was.

The first days of awkward silence and almost frantic way Sasuke's dark eyes would follow him or his parents when near had set Itachi on edge and caused the guilt of all present to swell even more. But now, seeing Sasuke gurgle happily, wide eyes smiling back at him the carefree way only a baby could... That constant tension, which had ever so slowly gnawed at Itachi finally left him.

"You're doing good, Otouto."

He wasn't sure if the training would help any. But with simple actions such as these, Itachi had managed to successfully distract Sasuke from his injuries while simultanously stimulate him to activate the slowly developing back muscles, which had been neglected due to the pain of his injuries.

The burn itself had already been mostly healed over, with the help of the cooing medic nin now that overall chakra restrictions had been lessened somewhat. In fact, at this point there was only the remaining scarring to be considered. But that, in itself, was proving difficult because of the way the fibrous tissue had contracted, straining against large movements while it seemed to remain stubbornly inflexible unless softened up through regular herbal ointment treatments and massage sessions.

Still, the overall progress was remarkable.

He smiled.

"You can let go now, Sasuke." Itachi waited patiently, but when the baby kept holding onto his fingers stubbornly, Itachi could only blink down at him owlishly.

Itachi was well aware of his brother's very physical way of expressing affection around people he liked as Sasuke tended to cling to _him_ more than others. Although Kaa-san was in a steady second place.

But surely, for such a small child, holding his upper body suspended in the air for such an extended period of time was bound to tire him out? In fact, Itachi was waiting for those tiny little arms to tremble from the strain right about now...

"Sasuke-"

"It's a reflex." Itachi turned his head at the words, carefully lowering his arms so Sasuke's head would once again rest safely against the blanket-covered floor. The baby might have grown stronger and could hold his head more steadily now compared to before, but the fragile state of his brother still made him nervous at times. Itachi _might_ have become a bit overprotective of Sasuke lately, just because he'd realized just how easily his little brother could be irreversibly broken.

Mikoto smiled down at him. Her face tired, worn even, but thankfully not even close to the lifeless form he'd see regularly in his nightmares.

For a moment, her pale face from back in the underground tunnels, right after the masked man had popped out of existance, flashed through his mind.

Itachi shivered.

But the sensation promptly vanished as a hand affectionately ruffled his dark hair. Much to his chagrin.

"It's something all babies do." Mikoto crouched down beside them on the soft blanket. "Though Sasuke-chan has a particularly strong grip. He must like you very much, Itachi-chan," she added with a flash of a warm smile.

Itachi blushed, eyes turning back towards the now drooling Sasuke.

"Well, I like him very much too." _Love,_ he corrected within his heart, because Itachi loved his little brother like no other. Sasuke was his only brother, a part equal to himself and he'd care for and guard him to the best of his ability. That was what big brother's do, after all. He didn't even need Shisui to tell him that. He just knew, somehow, that this tiny life was to be protected to all costs. Because Sasuke was family – _his_ family.

Itachi allowed Sasuke to pull one of his hands down towards his face and fought the grimace that threatened once the baby started to shove as much of his hand into his mouth as he could manage in one bite. Itachi swore he'd never get used to this unsanitory way of examining everything with one's mouth.

Hopefully, Sasuke would grow out of this weird infantile behavior soon.

"Hm.." Mikoto hummed, reaching down to tickle the baby's stomach, causing Sasuke to make loud squeeling noises, before descending into that wonderful baby laughter. Itachi turned mesmerised and Mikoto's eyes warmed watching the endearing scene.

Things had finally become somewhat normal again.

The village might still be recovering. A large load of work inside the walls lead to many shinobi, who would normally be out performing missions outside of Konoha, staying behind to help with the reconstruction and increased safety detail about the village. Mikoto had not participated much however. As her body would not have allowed it even if she wanted to, still recuperating from the wounds and chakra depletion she'd suffered.

" _Sasuke_ -!"

Mikoto blinked, suddenly refocusing only to find Itachi's panicked expression become dumbfounded. Turning her eyes towards the source of the uproar, she found Sasuke in the end of a coordinated turn. The baby flopping over onto his stomach.

Her jaw dropped.

Which, for an Uchiha, was a very rare sight indeed.

"Did he just-?"

"I think he did, Kaa-san." Itachi sounded equally in awe. Because to see Sasuke move that way was not only a new sign of development, but a confirmation that his burn was not hindering him as much as they originally feared.

Sasuke cooed. Tiny fingers gripping at folds in the now wrinkled blanket.

"What do I do now?" Itachi asked, fear in his eyes as he watched the baby's head bob up and down precariously. The odd angle obviously somewhat of a novelty for Sasuke still. Mikoto rolled her eyes at the protective streak Itachi had developed. It had only become worse ever since they managed to get back. Somehow, realizing how fragile Sasuke was had made Itachi even more conscious of the dangers that lurked around their house.

Mikoto had one day found her oldest busily baby-proofing the house. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Sasuke was still too small to actually reach the sharp corners and pointy objects sitting innocently on display in the livingroom bookcase or on Fugaku's desk.

Undoubtedly, Itachi's mind was currently running over which of the possible harmful items spread across the floor Sasuke might actually manage to hurt himself with this time and how long it would take him to snatch it out of reach of those chubby little fingers.

She gripped his shoulder. Feeling the tenseness beneath the thin, cloth covering.

"Let him be, Itachi. Sasuke-chan won't be going very far."

As if to prove her point the baby rolled over again, now trapped, flailing like a stranded turtle lying on its back. It seemed her son had yet to fully master the art of the maneuver. The beginnings of frustrated tears lining Sasuke's eyes only proved it. But Mikoto didn't doubt if for one minute that Sasuke would give up anytime soon. The baby had an uncanny stubborn streak, which made him fussy, repeating things again and again until Sasuke would finally have it down to perfection.

Even if it was something as simple as moving things from one hand to another without hitting yourself in the face in the process. Actually, eye-hand coordination might actually a bit of an issue. Huh, fancy that. A mere childhood oddity or the beginning of Uchiha Sasuke's constant chase after his perfect older brother? Wasn't shuriken jutsu something Sasuke struggled with for a while?

No. Mikoto shook her head free of those misleading thoughts. Sasuke was Fugaku's son as much as Itachi was. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, Fugaku was one hell of a good shinobi. Despite his lacking insight when it concerned clan leadership skill and village democracy.

In the end Sasuke, her Sasuke, was an Uchiha.

Mikoto was not ignorant enough to miss the subtle signs of their genetically high-paced learning curve. Because most children _did not_ pick up on things as fast as Sasuke did. Then again, Itachi and Sasuke weren't most children...

What scared her the most, however, was the realisation that if Sasuke was this rapid in development, how fast had Itachi been? _Itachi_ ,who was already at six-years of age showing signs of Uchiha genius.

"You should enjoy the stillness while it lasts," Mikoto said knowingly. She tried fervently to block out her silent contemplation on things clearly out of her control, which raised memories of another baby boy quickly conquering his surroundings. Fuzzy memories that brought nostalgic feelings to warm her chest.

She watched as Itachi went to help Sasuke back onto his stomach, using deliberately slow motions as if to teach the proper balance and movement needed for such a turn.

 _He will be a great teacher one day,_ Mikoto thought. Already thinking of the many times Sasuke would ask to train with his Nii-san. _Sasuke couldn't have asked for a better brother._

There was a loud sound from down the hall and Sasuke's head snapped in that direction. Itachi quickly slid Sasuke up into his arms, eyes already alert.

"I'm home."

Mikoto released a breath, pushing up on her feet to return to the kitchen. Her actions perhaps a bit too hurried to be considered casual.

Itachi's brow rose, but didn't outright question as he returned the now struggling Sasuke onto the blanket after identifying the owner of said voice.

Only a few minutes later his father's head popped in, the Uchiha a bit harried looking. Just returned from the daily Uchiha Military Police patrols, Itachi concluded. They had increased exponentially in both frequency and range after the Kyuubi attack. Even Shisui had been enlisted to help.

"Itachi," Fugaku said, dragging one hand through his hair, combing stray hairs back in place. "Where's your mother?"

There it was again.

The nervous tension in his father's frame.

And really, the question itself was suspicious, since his Tou-san should know that his Kaa-san was at home with them. She _always_ is.

Fugaku caught the subtle glide of Itachi's eyes towards the kitchen and resisted the urge to head over immediately. Instead, he straightened out his outer haori, giving a thorough ruffle to Itachi's hair before sweeping Sasuke off the floor in a fluid _swoosh_. The baby giggling at the sudden flight through the air.

His expression softened.

"Have you been good, you two?" He asked, allowing Sasuke close and he immediately grasped hair into his tiny fists.

Then _yanked_.

Fugaku winced, but was unable to hide his smile at the victorious look Sasuke wore.

"..We also cleaned up in the garden, though Sasuke was more or less just playing with the leaves."

Fugaku nodded seriously, acknowledging his son's report of the day's activities. Itachi's chest quite visibly puffed out with pride and stepped just a little bit closer.

It was something Fugaku had noticed as of late. Itachi's need for closeness. As if the boy needed to be reassured that they wouldn't leave or simply disappear into thin air.

It wasn't nearly as forward as other children his age might show it, Itachi was far too composed for that. But it could easily be spotted in the small motions. Itachi's hesitant approaches and the increasingly frequent incidents, where Fugaku would find fingers latched onto his trouser leg or lightly holding onto the edge of his haori.

Itachi would pull back as if burned once Itachi thought he'd noticed it, however. Which made the notion even more troubling.

Because Fugaku knew that Itachi was openly affectionate around Mikoto. But around himself there always seemed to be an invisible wall, which discouraged and somehow seemed to fend off all attempts at physical contact. As if Itachi thought Fugaku was too.. _unapproachable_.

It was also why Fugaku made a point of spendning more time with his family as of late. Or as much time as he could squeeze in, between his work with the Uchiha Military Police and the duties the clan demanded of him.

Then again, he'd choose spending the afternoon at home over attending the yearly joint Uchiha-Hyuuga meeting or any other tedious task _anytime_.

But, Fugaku was head of the Uchiha Clan. A position that would always demand he put the clan above family, above himself, at all times. No matter the circumstances...

Truthfully, he was shocked the clan elders had allow him this much freedom so far. His own father certainly had none.

".. Kaa-san said it's a reflex."

"Is that so?" he hummed, musing on his son's lively chatter. Itachi was for once not staring at the floor while speaking in his presence, but kept his gaze fixed on where Fugaku's fingers were idly tickling Sasuke's soft, downy neck. The boy squirming in his hold. "Still, I'm sure he'll be safe as long as you're being careful with him. You're his Nii-san, after all."

"You think so?" Large onyx eyes stared at him and Fugaku lost his breath, because while Itachi's eyes were similar to his own in their shape and colour, never had Fugaku seen so much childish innocence in his son's gaze before. Intelligence, yes. But never such pure faith in his words, willing to believe him despite obviously doubting his own ability to live up to them.

Fugaku crouched down, shocking an increasingly bewildered Itachi before wrapping an arm around the boy.

None too suprisingly, Itachi froze.

Fugaku was not a man inclined towards performing acts of physical affection. Never had been, actually. His own father had been even less of an exemplary doting parent behind that constantly cold and calculating exterior of his, so Fugaku didn't really have the experience for such things. Perhaps that was why Fugaku always paused when it came to showing his children affection? Itachi himself had not acted like normal children when he was younger and it had only strengthened Fugaku's aversion towards showing such obvious vulnerability.

But now, after seeing the connection between Mikoto and his sons, Fugaku couldn't help but feel a bit.. left out. That he was missing out on something _important_.

So he'd decided to try.

And try he did even if the hug he was currently giving was making him increasingly awkward because Itachi _was not responding!_

Not even a flinch.

Without the underlying rush of worry or other adrenaline infused emotions driving him on, Fugaku suddenly realized that perhaps he'd done this far too seldom.

Because shouldn't receiving a hug be one of the most common things between a child and a parent?

Quickly losing his nerve, Fugaku was almost glad when Sasuke started protesting against the tight fit, locked up against one side of his chest as the boy was. Fugaku was about to pull away, change the subject and put the failed attempt of reaching out to his son behind him when arms wrapped as far as they could reach around his torso.

Fugaku's eyes widened.

Itachi's head just buried deeper into his warm chest. Conveniently hidden from sight, with his dark hair falling about his face.

Fugaku's arm curled more firmly around those small shoulders. The boy was ridiculously small compared to his own frame. A _child_ , and how could he have forgotten it?

Itachi might be mature compared to other academy children. He might act like a miniature adult most of the time. But, Kami, Itachi was _six_.

Red flickered in his eyes and with his arms enfolding his offspring Fugaku allowed himself a moments respite. His form cradling Itachi's. Eyes lingering on the top of the silent boy's head for another moment before giving in.

" _Itachi_." The boy gave a imperceptible flinch and Fugaku consciously softened his tone. Enough to reassure Itachi that he was not intending to scold him for his behaviour. In fact, Fugaku felt incapable of any ill words at the sight of Itachi's obvious vulnerability. "I'm proud you are my son."

He shifted his arm so that he could support Itachi yet at the same time reach the back of Itachi's head. His hand smoothing over the silky strands there. The very same quality that his mother possessed, but tinted the same color as his own.

Fugaku mused over his words for a moment, waiting for the curious lump that suddenly lodged itself in his throat to disappear. Then he said with all the heartfelt sincerity he could manage words that he'd never said out loud. Always alluded to, in his own aloof manner. But never actually put into words before this moment.

"You.. and Sasuke..." He hesistated, but in the end it felt almost natural to admit it. "I'll always be proud of you. Because I love you."

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Her breath hitched once a heavy weight landed on her shoulder, a face burying itself into her neck causing an almost debilitating brush of hot air over her sensitive neck.

Mikoto tried to pull away, but it was futile as arms had already attached themselves around her middle.

Her hands stopped the motions she was doing – scrubbing dirty plates. Dipping the ceramic dish back into the depths of the sink she allowed the warm temperature of the dishwater to distract her from other, more _pleasant_ , warmths.

Such as that which currently radiated against her back.

She sighed, "What are you doing?"

He shifted and Mikoto had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. It was pointless anyway, as Fugaku would be unable to see the action from his current position.

"Just a few more seconds..." He rumbled and Mikoto turned her head sideways to peek at him, but it was impossible to see his face with it hidden as it was.

 _Will I ever understand the complexity that is Fugaku?_

Releasing her second sigh within the short span of five minutes she retook the sponge she'd been using to wash her dishes. Her ears simultanously peaking their attention towards the next room over. The sounds of happy cooing and Itachi's soft voice weaving another story reassured her that everything was alright. Which made Fugaku's sudden one-eighty on the emotional rollercoaster all the more perplexing.

Not that she hadn't experienced similar situations these last few days.

Her eyes clouded. Thinking back on the past events that had laid the base for their current fragile but common middle ground.

Even Mikoto had trouble understanding how it happened.

Because after the Kyuubi attack Mikoto had been prepared for the worst. Knowing that a lot of tensions would be growing, especially within the Uchiha Clan once the hostility of the village was directed towards them.

But Fugaku, it seemed, had other plans...

Mikoto had to admit she never expected his tenacity and zeal once he'd commited himself to a cause.

Something that had surprised the both of them.

She reached for a dish futher inside the sink but was held in place by the arms keeping her captive.

Her eyebrow twitched with irritation and she stretched for it with a bit more force behind it, but still, the hold around her would not budge.

Plunging the sponge back into the soapy water, she attacked another, more proximally located plate. All the while trying not to fume and grumble because of the annoying hindrance.

 _If I knew this would happen, I never would have succumbed in the first place!_

But she had.

In less than three weeks after their first interrupted encounter. Though Fugaku's stubborn nature had much to do with it.

Still, Mikoto agreed to try and make amends.

Afterwards, much of the former awkwardness between them was still there, but it had changed from discomfort to straight out embarrassment.

It had been good. For both of them.

That much she had to admit... Mikoto was not immature enough to not be able to acknowledge that the sex had helped clean the air between them.

Somehow, there was more of an understanding between them now. They were no longer enemies, but fighting for for a common goal. For better or worse...

She did not _love_ him,

Not yet.

But there was something lingering in the air between them that might as well hint at the possibility. Because, lets face it, there was no way Mikoto would find another way out of this mess and she might as well do her best with what she has.

Her cheeks heated at the thought. Suddenly, the memories of being tangled up with the Uchiha Head were too vivid for comfort.

Which, in itself, was an unusual development.

Because, damn, she'd never been embarrassed about stuff like this before. Mikoto was no blushing maiden. In fact, it had been _years_ since she last considered herself one. From experience, she'd concluded that marriage desensitized areas such as this. That romance and the heated fervor with which spouses partook in their bodies just.. calmed down and lost its edge after a certain amount of years being married. But Fugaku..

In her case, she'd probably have to live the life of a newly wed for quite some time yet.

At least, the constant flutters that would start in her stomach whenever he neared indicated as much. If Fugaku even hinted at something less _pure_ in thought and nature it would, ninety percent of the time, manage to make her blush. Her body echoing with the familiar ghostly emotions she'd come to call the product of her 'other' self.

The Mikoto that once loved Fugaku.

The Mikoto that she _killed_ by living.

"What are you thinking?" She froze and Fugaku raised his head a bit, dark eyes peering at her.

She stood transfixed for a moment, seeming to catch a flash of something in his eyes before it disappeared altogether. "Did you just...?"

There was no question about it. That split-second flicker of deep red could only have been one thing and Mikoto was not sure how she felt about her alleged spouse utilizing his doujutsu in her presence, at home and clearly out of any visible danger.

"You're blushing."

The red on her cheeks intensified and she gave a sharp slap on his hands, causing the infuriating man to finally let her go.

"I'm working. These dishes don't clean themselves you know?" Her renewed scrubbing might have been a bit more violent in nature than strictly necessary, but at least it allowed her to hide her burning face.

Fugaku wished to point out that they had hired 'help', who would gladly do these kind of things for them if asked. But Mikoto was for some reason against having non-family members moving in and out of the house as they wished. Well, not that Uchiha clan members weren't family. But Mikoto was being particular. Therefor Fugaku, being especially careful not to disturb the fragile peace between them, indulged her. Itachi and Sasuke didn't make much mess anyway and they almost never had dishes that weren't manageable. So, perhaps, allowing Mikoto some freedom on the subject was acceptable.

He'd actually tried to help with the housework last week, but only received a scolding in return.

How was he to know that laundry had to be done by color and not material? Where was the logic behind that? He'd only owned clothing of similar dark shades before and it had never been a problem... Who knew there was a whole science behind the mundane chores needed to keep a household running?

Mikoto gave a startled gasp. Hands dropping the plate, which landed with a crash.

"Fugaku!"

"Oops." He pulled away from the ear he'd been affectionately nuzzling, eyes following the clear destruction taking place at their feet.

Mikoto spun around at speeds that could have rivalled the Yondaime himself, eyes flashing. " _Stop it._ "

"Why?" he asked, controlling the smile that threatened to claim his lips.

" _Because_ ," she punctuated, wiping her hands dry on her apron. "See what you do! It's a mess."

"Hn.."

"Don't you 'hn' me, _Uchiha_. Seriously, this is why-"

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in that apron?"

She gaped. Her eyes wide in disbelief, before heat travelled up her chest and settled on her cheeks with a vengeance.

Fugaku smirked.

"There we have it." He reached up, caressing her pink cheek with his thumb while taking in her utterly disarmed eyes. Void of the usual guard she usually kept up around him, Fugaku could see the grey-speckled pattern to her onyx eyes. "I've missed this..."

Mikoto unconsciously backed up against the counter. But Fugaku was persistent and followed her inch by inch. Fingers never parting with her skin.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling flustered. "Wait.."

Fugaku moved in closer. At this proximity, the differences in their heights became all the more prominent.

He slid his fingers to catch her delicate chin in his grasp. Shards of the broken dish clattering along the floor as he stepped closer.

Mikoto could pick up on the faint hint of green tea still clinging to his breath as it fanned across her face and it seemed impossible to parry. Impossible to _resist_ as lips drew closer. Mikoto wasn't even sure anymore if she _wished_ to back out, because this was Fugaku and he knew _exactly_ what he was doing to her.

Her hand buried in the back of his shirt. Her eyelids falling closed as she tried desperately to remain standing. Because her legs were no longer made up of bones and muscle. But something far less sturdy. It felt like they'd collapse beneath her at any given second and she sincerely hoped they wouldn't. Because Mikoto would never be able to live it down. She wouldn't be able to stand the infuriating smirk of smugness the Uchiha would give her if she did.

Fugaku grunted into the kiss as a hand fastened like a vice over his shoulder. Another soon relocating to its opposite twin.

He pressed closer, slanting his head a bit before he concluded that _this_ _just wouldn't do!_

Itachi's head swerved towards the kitchen at the startled shriek. Soon to be followed by the ringing sound of a metal pan hitting the floor _hard_.

His head tilted sideways, brows knitting in concern.

"Kaa-san? Is everything alright?"

Everything suddenly went silent and even Sasuke stopped his current mangling of a toy, shaped like a flattened tomato with a colorful ring attached to it. Big eyes curious yet clueless about his brother's current dilemma.

Itachi was contemplating to go check, just incase there had been some kind of accident which made his mother lose consciousness since there was still no answer from her, when there was another scramble from inside the kitchen. A throng of sharp hisses soon cut through the air and Itachi was up on his feet.

"Ah, it's nothing, Itachi-chan! Kaa-chan is fine..." There was a dull thump, followed by a pained grunt and muffled curse. Sharp, biting words just out of his hearing range. "Just a bit.. _clumsy_. How's Sasuke-chan?"

Itachi, still rooted in place, glanced back at his brother from over his shoulder. Sasuke, who had, somehow, started to stealthily move towards the stack of neatly organized, monthly shinobi magazines his father liked to keep next to the newspapers for when reading about politics and the general stupidity of the general populace became too tedious. " _Ah_.."

"Itachi?"

Sasuke, realizing he'd been discovered started to wiggle and body flop with increased fervor, propelling himself forward. Doing a great imitation of a seal on the run. Using his short arms for extra leverage, Sasuke varied his body haul with periodic bouts of wild clawing at the carpet. Somehow thinking it would help. Determinedly heading towards the pile of glossy, colorful magazines. The chew toy long abandoned and eyes set on a far more satisfying goal.

Itachi groaned, inwardly wondering how his cute little otouto had turned out to be so fast without being able to crawl! If it was already at this stage, he hated to imagine what it would be like when he could actually use his limbs to keep mobile. Not to mention started to walk!

"Itachi?!"

"Mikoto! Please, not now-" Fugaku tried to protest but it fell on deaf ears.

 _Riiiiiiiip._

"Sasuke!" Itachi scolded as he rushed over.

 _Riiiiiiiip, tear, rip._

"Itachi!" Mikoto called out, huffing as she stumbled into the room. Her long hair astray, jumping forward on one foot while clutching the other in hand, her apron hanging loose around her neck. Mimicking a billowing sail the way it fluttered with her motions.

A deep flush sat on her face and she blinked. Trying to take in the scene with her widening eyes.

Itachi, semi-standing with a disgruntled Sasuke lifted away and off of the floor. The baby's hands holding incriminating pieces of ripped magazines pages. Sasuke's lower lip trembling threateningly. A disorganized pile of formerly stacked magazines lying like the aftermath of a landslide at their feet.

Itachi's twitching eye became the sole indication of how he felt about the matter and despite trying not to, Mikoto started laughing.

Sasuke, apparently unhappy with finding no sympathy for his hurt feelings, started wailing.

Itachi shifted his gaze from his mother to Sasuke's displeased cries, sliding over the overall mess that had decided to play out in the matter of seconds and could only shake his head. A sigh bubbling up inside him, but Itachi was too exasperated by his baby brother's antics to lecture him so he decided on a resigned smile instead.

Sasuke was still just a baby, after all.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Fugaku sat forgotten in the kitchen back against the wall, rubbing at his severely bruised shin. Damn, that woman had a dangerous kick when she needed it!

Disappointed, displeased and a bit disgruntled by the fact that Mikoto had run out on him in the middle of things Fugaku sank into his own brooding. Muttering about the unfairness of it all.

The kitchen was a _mess_.

Shattered dishes decorated the floor. A sausepan lay on the floor not too far from the sink, where it had rolled off to. His discarded Konoha-issue flak jacket was wet, as was most of _him_ and the floor was soaked from where water had welled over from the sink.

His eyes fastened on an abandoned piece of red silk ribbon lingering on the wooden counter and he smiled.

The memory of gliding his fingers through those silky strands would have to be enough for now.

After all...

 _There will be other oppertunities._

* * *

 _ **#To be continued...**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Warning: OC** and screw up of original canon/timeline. **NonCanon.** **Young** Itachi and Tiny Sasuke. Fugaku is an actual human and has emotions. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** A bit of emotional tangles. Possibly **Adult themes.** Established **Fugaku/Mikoto**.

 **AN:** I know there are no apologies good enough to make up for such a long absence and I can't claim to have valid reasons for why it happened other than, well – _life_. To those who have read the story so far and those, who happened upon it more recently, TWFS has not been discontinued. I hope the upcoming chapters can make up for the inconvenience.

– From one avid fanfiction reader to another. _DR_.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 19

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Rosy cheeks and lively, clear eyes watched the sky above. Small, white puffs of cloud forming with each exhale. He wiggled, shifting more as he pushed the white mass around. Leaving an incriminating mark behind even a blind man would be able to recognise.

A bit of the cold stuff had managed to get its way into his tiny boot. But it didn't faze him. Playing outside was far more fun. A real treat.

A loud huff followed from a few feet away.

That grumpy sound had become more familiar recently. Something recognizable to safety. Almost like being cradled in his mother's arms, spoon fed salty broth and chopped up noodles. That awful smelly cloth always there, ready for whenever something slipped back past his lips and down his chin. Like those sticky kisses the old frog ladies insisted on pressing to his cheeks when they saw him. The handmade toys brought back from their travels, each more fascinating then the last.

At three years old, the few but precious memories he had were like small treasures to him. Always changing and sometimes being a bit blurred at the edges. Other times enhanced by his young mind. Those early childhood memories often fuelled more imaginary adventures and mischief than was probably sound for a small boy.

But none of the adults could bear the thought of taking that freedom away from him. Not when there was so little to be had already.

"Oi, kid. Stop mucking about. Your kaa-chan will have me hanged if you get sick, rolling about like that."

"But it's fun!" The boy tried to make the play even more appealing by rolling down the miniature hill. Landing in a flurry of snowflakes and giggles at the older man's feet. "B'sides, I don't _get_ sick."

Stern eyes peered down at him, a furry brow rising in challenge. "Ho? Is that so?"

The giggles escalated into ringing laughter, tiny arms struggling as he tried to fight off the hand assaulting his belly with tickles. He never could defend himself well enough against those unrelenting fingers. A deep, hearty laugh soon joined in. A bit more sedated, true, as the man was aware of the delicate position they were in. But he still couldn't help but smile at the sight of his godson enjoying himself so much.

At first, he had thought any form of fatherhood well out of his league. The renown Toad Sannin had long since come to terms with the notion that he would die alone, unwanted and unmissed. After all, even in his late forties, he had yet to find a woman able to stand him. His team-mates had long abandoned him, and his students had all perished before him...

"Stop, stop, stop! Jiraiya-chan!"

He paused his fingers, which gave Naruto the perfect opportunity to lock his hands around the wrist. Stilling the limb completely so he could try and catch a much-needed breath.

Jiraiya frowned.

"Do you have to call me that?"

The moniker always unsettled him. Made him feel like he was back at Mount Myoboku, being reprimanded for not finishing his plate of scrumptious beasties.

Blue eyes blink up at him. "But that's what Shima-baa calls you all the time?!"

" _Precisely_." He reached down, lifted the boy up and shook off the snow still clinging to his bulky clothing. "Why can't you call me something... normal?" he muttered under his breath.

"Kaa-chan called you a _good-for-nothing pervert_ once, but then Shima-baa said that's not nice. She says it's bad calling people bad names. Especially if it's true, which made Kaa-chan fall over and spill her tea-"

"Jiraiya-chan is much better, _thank you._ " He said sharply, then eased a sceptic look at the boy now shifting from foot to foot. Humming with energy. "Although I'd prefer Jiraiya, the Great Toad Sannin."

The small face screwed into confusion and a bit dismay. Bottom lip jutting out like a bad impression of Minato begging for another trip to Ichiraku's Ramen Shop. The kid never seemed to get enough of the stuff and would constantly beg to be taken out again. Or worse, for more servings...

Oh, his poor wallet!

"But it's too _long_!" Naruto whined.

Jiraiya winced, rubbing one ear.

He had forgotten how trying it was to be around kids for prolonged periods of time.

His years of training Minato had gone and passed, a time which now seemed like ages ago. Hell, Jiraiya was nearing the end of his prime already, rushing quickly towards the inevitable 'old age' Tsunade tried so fervently to avoid like a plague using any means possible. Perhaps, he should consider taking a leaf out of her book?

After all, he wasn't getting any younger...

"Ah, _Kaa-chan_!"

Then he slipped out of his grasp, zipping like a miniature bolt of energy down the nearly snowed under dirt road. The wind whining after him, hurtling flakes off the opposite cliff face.

"Naruto!"

Happy giggles followed as the boy bowled straight into his mother. Sticking to the lower part of her winter kimono and taking it with him in his tumble. Leaving Jiraiya with a nice view of – what he considered, he reminded himself while pushing other horrid thoughts away – his _daughter-in law's_ firm, shapely legs.

Now, if he had been a weaker man and a good few years younger, the Sage sniggered at the thought, those nice pair of woollen leggings wouldn't have been that much of a dampener.

But now...

He hastened down the slippery slope. Not even waiting for the cry he knew would inevitably come.

"Jiraiya! Get down here and _help_ me!"

Kushina blew some strands from her face, trying, against all odds, to move a muscle while being bodily held down by her child.

"I missed you, Kaa-chan. Was if fun? Did you see any ninjas? Did you see any scary ones-?"

"Easy there, brat." The boy squeaked, not even protesting as he was hauled off the woman. "At least let your mother catch her breath after you knock it out of her."

" _Thanks_ ," Kushina said, a bit apprehensive, as she was helped off the ground.

She grimaced, feeling the snow melt into places she didn't need it too. This is exactly why she insisted on going alone in the first place. But Jiraiya just _had_ to insist on bringing Naruto along... Using lame excuses, such as 'fearing Naruto would bother the other guests of the inn', whatever that was supposed to mean...

Huffing, she adjusted her thick outer winter kimono, then fitted the straps of her backpack better over her shoulders. She'd just bought loads of ingredients for the dinner they were supposedly having in the middle of nowhere.

All part of Jiraiya's elaborate 'Birthday Surprise' for Naruto.

Besides, what is the point of going birthday shopping if you can't get the peace and quiet of looking for presents on your own?

Being a single mother to a child since infancy meant spending most of her time together with Naruto. Not that Kushina minded. She loved her son dearly and wouldn't exchange him for all the ramen in the world.

But the chance to spend some time off by herself was like being allowed to set her feet up and relax for the first time in a trying day. Without having to worry about Naruto choking on a bug or injuring himself climbing those leaf-trees or even accidentally falling into a pool of toad oil. She'd prevented the last one from happening once before and she ended up nearly falling in herself in the process!

So Jiraiya-san's gallant offer to watch Naruto outside while burning off some of the child's excessive energy in the process was like receiving an early birthday present. Even if Kushina was fairly certain it was just to get out of the close confines of their shared room at the inn.

It was the middle of January, days before the tenth to be exact. The day they'd settled on to use as Naruto's official birthday.

The date represented Naruto's actual birthday and the choice of month, that is January, after his late father. A bit of sentiment on her part. Something Jiraiya didn't always agree with. Anything linking Naruto to the Yondaime was foolish, she knew that. But Kushina couldn't leave Minato out of Naruto's life completely.

Kushina had named him, true. But Minato was still his father, a near copy of him in fact.

Even if she hadn't lain eyes on Minato's iconic sunny blond locks for years since those fair downy strands of gold upon Naruto's little round head, her son's deep azure eyes reminded her every day. Minato's facial features were hinted at beneath still present baby fat and the slight softening of her influence helped hide it somewhat. But there was no doubt in her mind that once grown Naruto would look a lot like him. Enough to put him in danger from Minato's allies and foes alike.

So Kushina was determined Naruto would never know about the true identities of his parents. They had to continue living this masquerade until they are both strong enough to protect themselves. No matter the effort it took. Despite how bad she felt for keeping Minato from him.

If she had to give up so much for the sake of safety shouldn't she be allowed this much at least?

Some things had been made easy, thankfully.

It was extremely fortunate Naruto had grown as well as he had, which meant that he could play the role of a four-year-old quite well despite being only three. Sure, he could be a bit immature at times. Who wasn't at that age? Though Kushina put most of his behaviour down to the fact that Naruto didn't have much interaction with other children and thus didn't know how to contain himself when meeting new _friends_ , as he liked to call them; be they younger toads of Mount Myoboku, village outcasts or the odd child they accidentally met outside of the summoner's realm.

One thing was for sure.

Naruto would never have a shortage of friends.

Jiraiya shook his head as he watched them go. Mother and child walking hand in hand, a strange occurrence for one as independent as Naruto, their midnight strands flapping in the wind. If Jiraiya didn't know better, he'd think he'd followed the wrong pair. But a joyful cry of 'Hurry up, Jiraiya-chan!' set him straight.

He lugged their baggage higher, throwing one of the bags over a shoulder while hefting the other two with his hands.

What would his teammates say if they saw him now?

The Great Jiraiya-sama, reduced to a common pack-mule!

An echo of his former best friend's derisive snort made him hurry his pace. The memories of times where he was in a much similar position made his heart sting. Although this time with a mix of fondness and hurtful betrayal.

He forced himself back into focus.

Naruto was going on about another bird he identified sitting on a snow-covered branch. His high-pitched voice echoing its call. Apparently, the lessons Fukusaku and Shima insisted on hadn't gone completely to waste. How they managed, when the boy had the attention span of a goldfish, he had no idea.

 _Well... As long as he is happy._

Jiraiya observed the pair. Naruto's bright energy and warming smile. Kushina's lips pulled into a wide grin despite the scarring on her face.

Both had been through nightmarish conditions, with Kushina's recovery being the hardest of them all. Jiraiya himself had been too much of a coward to put himself in the middle of it. Instead, he dumped the pair of potent emotional baggage into the care of his mentors for safe keeping. A wise decision he now realised. The Toad Sannin had been in no state to care for an emotionally unstable widow and her suddenly fatherless child. Nor was he prepared to deal with such circumstances being thrown at him. Jiraiya had a hard-enough time mourning Minato and dealing with his own grief to be of any actual use to anyone.

He was spy, not a family man.

Things were enough screwed up, as it was.

He'd spent the early days after the Kyuubi attack infiltrating back into his village. Stood before his old teacher and _lied_ , straight to his face.

Then Jiraiya took the first chance to leave, a mission that involved investigation into rumours of a resilient force based in the south of Iwa, which could prove to be a danger to Konoha and its still weak defences.

To him it became an opportunity to check on his contacts and planted spies. To sniff out any leads pertaining to Minato's killer. For although most of Konoha had bought the official story of an investment gone wrong. That it was all a misfortunate freak accident, one which involved releasing one of history's greatest calamities in the heart of Konoha proper. Jiraiya was not so forgiving.

 _Someone_ had attacked the heart of his world and he was not about to let it be forgotten.

His current focus was on keeping Kushina and Naruto safe. He'd promised and owed Minato that much. But that did not mean he wouldn't try to catch the murderer before his time was up.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

He blew on his fingers, trying to keep them warm as he sat, waiting. The sky was dark with grey clouds dancing across it. The moon lighting their backs and making them glow. The leaves had gone quiet and the tree branches bare. But it didn't scare him.

The gnarly branches, that looked like grasping hands, weren't dangerous. They were just made scary by his 'imagination', Itachi-nii said so and his nii-san would never lie to him. Not for real.

The sound of wood being scuffed around in the kitchen told him it was soon time for bed.

Muffled voices followed by nearly soundless steps only confirmed it.

".. Of course, Kaa-san." The shoji door was pulled open behind him, a gangly form slipping out with arms braced against the chill. "Sasuke."

" _No_. I don't want to."

A sigh. "It's time for a bath, then bed. Don't make me come get you."

The boy bundled in a thick quilt turned where he sat on the ground.

Large obsidian eyes stared back at him. The stars lighting their wet surfaces.

If the circumstances had been any different, Itachi would have found his brother's puppy eyes comical. But he was tired, already aching from being pushed to the limit during clan training. All he wanted was to eat the last of his mother's home-made dango and perhaps drag himself off to bed.

To be truthful, Itachi would probably settle for sleeping beside the kotatsu and let its cosy warmth lull him into restful oblivion. At least, until his father got home and marched him to bed.

"Tou-chan's still not home. I'm not sleeping until Tou-chan's back!"

 _This is starting to get old_ , Itachi thought sadly.

Sasuke stressing the fact that he wanted to see everyone in the evening before going to bed was not a novelty. Keeping tabs on family members had become his habit. One Itachi hadn't seen since he was a baby barely able to let people out of his sight for the anxiety and fear he would never see them again.

It had all started once one of the small children during one of the internal clan festivals blurted out that his Tou-chan had stopped coming home one night. Little Kaede, a sweet but somewhat shy boy, was a year older than Sasuke but smaller than his little brother by inches. They'd played together before, drawn to each other by shared insecurities. So Sasuke was aware of Kaede's personal family dynamics. Living with his parents and his fragile grandmother in a small house on a nearby street a little way down from their own, Kaede rarely interacted with other children outside of family gatherings.

Sasuke had been on edge ever since Kaede let slip he once had an older sister, who was a chuunin. As young kids do, Kaede wasn't that outright with what actually _happened_ to his sister. If it was because it still hurt to think of or because his parents never talked about her anymore, it didn't matter. What mattered was that neither did Kaede know that his father, declared missing in action since November, had been found in much a similar state as his lost daughter: Abandoned outside Konoha walls. Dismembered and eye-less.

Itachi didn't blame them. The adults. The whispers they kept out of reach of the civilians were all but tame. Everyone knew what was going on but waited for someone to confirm it.

Eleven deaths did not happen for no reason.

He eased himself down from the wooden porch. His shinobi sandals breaking frosted strands of grass and crunchy leaves.

If he could, Itachi would keep the darkness of Shinobi Life from Sasuke for as long as possible. His brother didn't _need_ to know about the unseemly intricacies of death and badly concealed acts of revenge. Hatred could only be overcome by acceptance and warmth. For that, they needed the younger generations to grow up unpolluted by poisonous thoughts. Unscarred by the cruelties of the world.

He crouched beside Sasuke.

His brother was bigger now. Sometimes Itachi wished he had more time with the baby brother, who clung to his clothes like a leach. Sasuke, who wanted to spend every hour of the day with him. Who wouldn't let him go, unless someone pealed him from him by force.

This three-year-old Sasuke was still his little brother. The baby brother he'd spent time raising and helping when he could. Assisting his mother in taming his cries when cranky or hungry. Played with him when teething made him inconsolable. Watched him crawl, toddle around and bring mayhem to their previously peaceful and orderly home.

Itachi wouldn't have changed a second of it.

He would do anything to save it, the innocence he knew was harboured inside Sasuke. He could see it in his eyes. Feel it in his hugs and read it in Sasuke's body-language as he asked to play with him.

Wanted to spend time with _him_.

A tainted being such as himself.

Sasuke sniffled, trying to muffle it by pressing his face into the fold of quilt wrapped around him. Itachi doesn't need to see it to know that his little brother is crying. What more, he knew better than to point it out. It was there, in the squareness of his tiny shoulders. His curled-up position...

He set a palm gently on Sasuke's head.

It stopped the crying, which abated into small hiccups instead.

A great success. Itachi hated to listen to Sasuke's tears. They made him feel so... helpless. Useless.

"Want to wait up for Tou-chan in my room? We can ask Kaa-chan for extra blankets..."

"We can build a fort!" Sasuke filled in, eyes widening before he sneaked a peek at his nii-san. "Can I bring Tsune, too?"

The thought of the shabby kitsune plushie in his bed made him shiver for a second. That thing had been around since Sasuke was a baby and looked like it. It was usually smudged with dirt and various stains, usually from sharing snacks with his brother. The fact that it was only allowed a 'bath' twice a year because Sasuke said it didn't smell the same afterward only strengthened his instinctual reaction.

But Kami knew Sasuke loved that ratty old thing.

Probably on the same level as himself.

Tsune was basically part of the family now.

"Fine, you can bring your pet fox. But he can't chew on anything. Do not think I didn't notice the last time."

Sasuke even made a decent look of acting affronted. "Tsune does _not_ chew. She doesn't have teeth. She doesn't even have a mouth; how can she chew anything?"

"Then how can she eat?" he shot back, amused. Sasuke had forgotten all about his tears and their father's absence.

"I don't know! But she's hungry. I know, because I can hear her stomach rumbling when she is."

Itachi gave a soft chuckle. A smile on his face as he reached out a hand towards his brother.

"So, we have a deal?"

"Deal!"

It took him a moment to get a good hold on Sasuke. The quilt was bulky, and his brother was very thin and slippery by nature. But after a good few attempts, Itachi deemed his grip safe enough and lifted him off the ground. Arms latched themselves around his neck almost instantly. A small face burying itself into his neck.

".. D'you know? I love you, Itachi-nii... Best nii-san ever..." Sasuke said sleepily.

Itachi smiled, slowly finding his steps in the dark. It was hard to believe there was a time when Sasuke was afraid of the dark. He shook his head. Times certainly had changed if he now had to drag him out of it...

Clouds shifted overhead and Itachi paused in his tracks. His body tensing without letting on that he was aware of the skulking presences hiding in the trees. Sasuke's breathing had levelled out, brushing his neck now. His heartbeat slowed, and Itachi concentrated on moving his feet. Taking one, two, three more steps towards the house.

Mikoto's silhouette filled the entryway, her arms crossed with a doting look on her face. She gave both a kiss as they passed, much to Sasuke's displeasure. Stating that it tickled in weak protest, which made her wiggle her fingers across his side drawing a cross between a sleepy huff and a laugh.

"The water is warm, my cuties." Itachi rolled his eyes, but Mikoto only pulled the tie of his ponytail loose. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Oh, can we get some extra blankets to my room? I promised Sasuke he could start off in my bed."

"Hm..." She fiddled with the handle on the shoji door, distracted.

" _Mm_. Kaa-chan can wait with us, too. She can be the dazzled witness..." Sasuke murmured somewhat incoherently.

" _Damsel_ in _distress_ , Sasuke." Itachi shifted his brother, fearing he would drop him now as his arms had gone lax around his neck. Cradling him more on one arm, he tried to send a last look at his mother.

She waved him off. Her grin never fading. "Don't fall asleep in the bath, Itachi-chan. _Be careful_."

He nodded, jolting alert, and disappeared down the hall without another word.

Mikoto waited until their steps were far enough away before she stepped out onto the wood. Her white apron would be the perfect target in the night, illuminated by the moon. She allowed the quiet of the garden to surround her, her bare feet latched onto cold wood.

She wasn't the only one wearing white.

Staring back, she dared them to move. Her eyes slowly picked out their shadowed forms, their heads topped with white. Why someone would use such an obvious colour after dusk was puzzling. Then again, uniforms were for conformity not camouflage. If they really wanted to escape being seen they would have no problems doing so. At heart, they were little more than silent killers. Elites trained for the task of taking out sensitive targets and making people disappear.

She sent a surge of chakra towards her eyes, fire so red it looked like fresh blood bleeding into them.

Night was no longer a problem, for their now visible signatures and pathways practically screamed their location at her. Drew her gaze in the otherwise peaceful environment.

 _Nine_...

One of the watchers churned energy in his stomach. Fingers twitching impatiently, _waiting_. Stalling for the right moment. For her to make a mistake. His companions acted accordingly, signing something to him that made the vortex calm somewhat. The energy fleeing his core like viscous fluid, heading towards his hands and feet. The current reforming, mingling with the rest of him into that blob of general blue associated with an established chakra pattern.

She swallowed.

 _Nine. There should be nine..._

Sets of four were a given. But there needed to be an interface.

Delicacy and a respectful approach to boundaries were essential in situations like these.

A _ping_.

Nauseating and offering much needed relief at the same time.

The gentle creaking from the overhang above her was plain out insulting. If they wanted to scare her, fine. Let them be arrogant and childish with their games. She didn't care what they did with their time and if they thought hanging around the Uchiha clan head's residence would give them anything of worth they were sure to be surprised.

She slid the shoji door shut, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, bolting it while pressing down the emotions fighting for dominance inside her.

 _Mind games_.

That's all they were.

Mikoto secured the rest of the house before heading towards the boys' rooms. Locks and bolts would hardly keep them out, but it was the symbolic meaning that held importance to her. Fugaku had keys, after all. His signature was keyed into the house, although not quite as modern as the precaution wards set at Kushina's old apartment.

Sasuke's room was, as expected, in disarray. Quickly picking out a pair if clean underwear, sleeping pants and yukata, she turned to fetch the corresponding items from Itachi's.

Her eldest's private quarters were far more collected. Everything had its predetermined place, and if for once was messy, it was meant to be so for some reason or other. Often because of the boy sorting through scrolls or some other mundane reason. His desk was littered with clan literature, scrolls and tomes she scarcely believed more than those deep in the mesh of the clan even bothered to look at. Scattered about tastefully, mainly on the empty spaces of doors and cupboard sides were photos of him, Sasuke or the whole family. Mostly enjoying themselves, smiling or in more than one – both. It made the room so intimate, like peering into Itachi's mind. You could tell by a glance what really mattered to him, and that scared her.

Because what would happen if something suddenly got damaged? Lost? Or broken beyond repair?

She knew material value was nothing to her son. The clan would give him anything he desired. As long as he did his best and repaid them one day. Her Itachi-chan was clan heir. Unofficially, at the moment, yes. But his studies were bringing him closer towards that title by the day. He would succeed his father and work hard, no matter what. That much she knew. Even if he wanted nothing to do with being head of the clan to start with.

For his father, he would do anything.

Even sacrifice himself.

Itachi was already towelling Sasuke dry when she entered with their sleep wear. Both boys were heavy lidded and somewhat mussed. Mikoto smiled as she saw them and took over the task from him. Itachi looked too tired to stand straight on his feet, his bottom gratefully landing on the small, accompanying bath stool.

After herding her offspring into Itachi's bed, she took up the great task of reading Sasuke's bedtime story. There, beneath the great fortress of sheets and blankets, her voice recited the words. Itachi, expectedly, did not last long. Pages into the book, while relaying the story of a reluctant hero saving a penniless princess-in-disguise from an untimely fall off a bandit's carriage, Itachi was already fast asleep on her shoulder. His soft snores brushing her ears as they both leaned back against the pillows. Sasuke lay curled up with Tsune, his head on Mikoto's stomach and still eagerly listening to her words. Every now and then supplying alternate courses of action which would have saved the pair from a lot of unnecessary trouble. His arms hugging his fox close. Leeching off their combined heat.

That is, of course, how Fugaku finds them hours later when returning from his mission.

His exhaustion all but forgotten as he kisses them all in turn, before lastly rousing his wife. Mikoto gently adjusting their positions on the bed before flipping the lights off.

There they stood together, watching the dim lights of the hall illuminate the shapes on the bed. Brothers sleeping close and so undisturbed by the world around them.

"They look tired."

" _Exhausted_ ," Mikoto concurred. "Sasuke's been running around all day and Itachi was already sleeping on his feet when he got home." She frowned. "They're pushing him too hard."

Woodland, fire and smoke tickled her senses. The scents clinging to his skin from the patches he hadn't reached while washing before changing into a fresh spare uniform and returning home.

She appreciated his efforts.

Last thing Mikoto needed was for Sasuke to see his father return bloodied or covered in gore. Itachi already knew enough to suspect what his father was doing, and why. So, he said nothing. But there always was that gleam in his eyes. That small hint of understanding...

Fugaku pressed a kiss to her temple. Something she knew he needed, as much as she did. Closeness and companionship.

A sense of belonging.

 _Family_.

"Okaeri."

"Tadaima"

* * *

 _ **To be continued...**_

* * *

 **AN:** Some things won't translate well enough into English, so I added the the explanations below. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

Kitsune – fox

Okaeri – welcome home

Tadaima – I'm home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Warning: OC** and screw up of original canon/timeline. **NonCanon.** Young Itachi and Tiny Sasuke. Fugaku is an actual human with emotions. The overused cliché of soulsearching/rebirth with a twist! **Language.** A bit of emotional tangles. Possible **Adult themes.** Established **Fugaku/Mikoto**.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

Chapter 20

 **.oOo.**

* * *

Feet thumped against soft earth, pushing her forward. Her lungs burned, in a good way. Something she'd come to appreciate as of late. She rounded another tree trunk, swerving as she ran through the wooded area, around and around. Much like what she'd watched Itachi-chan do these past few years.

Birds called from overhead. Their morning greetings chiming from between leaves.

She panted, feeling sweat pool down the back of her shirt and at her hairline.

 _Another round..._

She ducked then exchanged one kunai for another while lodging her current kunai higher up on the tree-trunk.

The trees and bushes rushed past her in a systematic blur of green and brown. Leaving sunlight to stream down through thick, lush branches. Her thighs started to burn from her long run, lactic acid accumulating and making it hard to concentrate on anything but the deep _ache_ radiating through the large muscles.

Another hundred feet.

 _Just a bit more..._

As she rounded the marked tree one last time, she barely had enough control in her shaking arms to stab the bark one last time with her kunai before falling boneless to the ground.

"Dear mother of..." Mikoto managed between pants as the living world spun around her.

She covered her eyes with one arm, feeling her chest heave in and out – _In_ and _Out_ – as she lay on the beaten dirt path. After a few minutes spent catching her breath, Mikoto withdrew her arm to stare up at the looming trunk.

 _Twenty-five_.

She huffed something very close to a laugh, although it was all but joyful.

Twenty-five laps around the clearing at full speed, was that all she could amount to?

The Uchiha glared at the nicks she'd made in the bark. Each line consecutively becoming a bit shallower than the last. Proving her suspicion to be true, that her stamina and strength decreased almost proportionally every three laps or so. The whole escapade hadn't taken more than thirty minutes or so, which was considerably better than last time. But still not good enough.

Who was she kidding? Six months ago, Mikoto could barely do ten laps in a row before collapsing into a useless heap!

"Well, I'm not getting any worse. But I'm not getting better either."

It was slow progress and she hated to admit it. Too slow, according to her estimates. She needed to get into shape and fast. If Mikoto couldn't handle basic endurance training, how was she supposed to outlast more strenuous exercises?

She frowned as she remembered the short taijutsu spar she'd 'coerced' Fugaku into.

Not unexpectedly, she'd flopped that one spectacularly trying to test her taijutsu against Fugaku's flawless clan training style.

She winced at the memory of the spar.

It had been _worse_ than she'd imagined it would be.

More so, she suspected Itachi would have lasted longer and offered more of a fight, despite being a child.

It wasn't a matter of strength, exactly. Fugaku would have that over her anytime. But it was a matter of sloppiness. A certain lack of diligence and the fluid precision that seemed so inherent to all Uchiha young or old.

She always considered herself her greatest critic, something that had saved her life many times in the past. So, when it came to analysing her spar against Fugaku, she cut no corners. Because, there was something she could not avoid noticing: Uchiha Mikoto may be Uchiha by blood. But not in mind. That and, well... Clearly Fugaku was clan head for a reason other than genetics.

But that couldn't be changed.

What could be influenced is her own performance, which is why she could be found driving this body through literal hell.

Why? Because, apparently, the basic many times revised run-through routine of her kata she'd started and tweaked with a lot of help from Kushina-chan, before the Kyuubi attack, hadn't taken into the fact that kata is, simply that, _kata_.

Not a way of fighting.

No one way ticket to success.

Because in her haste to try and gain some power over her own life she'd forgotten the most simplistic thing when it came to shinobi and their lives: There is simply no _easy_ way to learning to implement taijutsu moves without _training_ to use them in real face-to-face spars.

She now cursed her lack of insight as she'd failed to realise such a vital part while she continued to blindly revise her kata in private after Kushina's departure.

Feeling very miffed now, Mikoto scooted closer to the tree trunk. Taking great effort to lift her legs to rest against it, so they stood perpendicular off the ground. Closing her eyes again, Mikoto attempted to centre herself – to _sense_ her inner energy. The morning calm of the forest made it easier. Because even if the clan grounds were favoured by many when it came to simpler training regimes, not many ventured out at the crack of dawn on early Sunday morning.

In fact, weekends were the only days she dared to leave the house without Sasuke in tow.

Of course, knowing Fugaku often chose to sleep in or stay in the house during the weekends unless called for allowed her a bit more flexibility in her choices. Besides, exercising was much easier without having to worry about prying eyes or curious little hands near dangerously sharp objects.

Although Mikoto suspected Fugaku had already reached some kind of understanding about where she sneaked off to during her small morning excursions – Honestly, he'd have to be blind not to notice. If he hadn't, well, the changes she'd gone through recently would soon spark some suspicion on the matter.

They weren't that obvious at first, at least not to her. But Uchiha were known for their attention to detail. Hard not to, with those infernal eyes and if Fugaku's lingering glances were anything to go by, he'd taken note of it.

A small pinch in here and there.

The odd bulk where previously there had been none but gracile legs and slender calves.

Sure, there were still signs of her recent pregnancy. But Mikoto had gone from puffy to a more lean, wiry build. The residual weight from her pregnancy nearly gone and replaced by the gradual strengthening of her leg muscles. Even her arms felt stronger.

Her 'secret' training routine had other benefits too.

Running, and she'd done copious amounts of it compared to previously, helped her settle her lively chakra.

The energy she'd been battling since she'd first discovered it was still erratic in nature, but more subdued these days. As if the more control she had of her body, the more influence she gained over her stores.

Mikoto had a suspicion she was subconsciously using small bits of chakra to strengthen her muscles during her runs. The deeper exhaustion she felt after her more intense runs could possibly be explained by chakra drainage? Although, she didn't have nearly enough experience when it came to using chakra to confirm it.

Her grasp on chakra and her reserves were, after all, shaky at best.

The itching, which still annoyed her at times, was less prominent these days. Her more proximal coils felt more stable, though those in her hands and feet still protested when she tried to exert chakra through them.

All in all, it was a slow and agonising process.

Although she'd slowly graduated from the leaf-sticking exercise, having reached the point where she managed to shift around three leaves simultaneously while attached to her torso if she focused enough. Her hands _,_ arguably the most important part of the body where shinobi and jutsu performing are concerned, still struggled with concentration ratios and how to emit restricted amounts of chakra at a time. Too little control and _zap_! The burst of energy would angrily sting her skin in protest. Sometimes Mikoto swore she saw thin wisps of electricity jumping fingers in agitation.

She opened her eyes, raising her hands to stare at her bare palms.

They were the pale hands of a housewife. Worn from heavy washing and cleaning, the old life that once belonged to this skin yet there was something knew emerging. For whereas there were a few older scars, which were most likely remnants from her time before her retirement. There were new ones as well. Recent cuts and older lines, slowly fading from red to silver. Some left from her fumbling attempts with kunai. Others, as small signs of her frustration. But there were also strengthening calluses, from the near daily wear her hands were starting to experience from her training sessions.

These hands – as foreign as they seemed in the beginning – were becoming her hands.

 _Hers_.

After a few more minutes of intense study, she'd made her decision.

Focusing, Mikoto calmly – if a bit nervously – placed her palms together and channelled chakra to them. She felt the tension immediately. The energy quickly becoming restless. Trying to quell the reaction a bit, she carefully filtered small amounts of chakra through the coils to infuse the layer of air closest to her skin.

The effect was instantaneous.

A low hum filled the air, sharpening once she concentrated more on the sound of it.

Taking a deep breath, Mikoto imagined separate layers so fine they could hardly be seen. But it didn't work the first time, so she gritted her teeth before forcing herself to relax.

She tried again.

It was _electric_ , the sensation running through her. Propagating up her arms to niggle at her shoulders. Banking the sensations, she limited as best she could the chakra imput to her hands. Aware, from her previous failed attempts, that what she was trying to do could backfire on her tremendously if she wasn't careful.

"Here we go," she said softly, a deep line of concentration between her brows.

Very, very slowly at first Mikoto rubbed the layers against each other by moving her hands. First, by pressing gently and simultaneously sensing the amassing static. The needle-like prickling in her skin soon turned to a sharp crackling, all at once pushing _and_ attracting the two surfaces.

Before it decided to discharge – painfully!

Mikoto dragged her hands apart with a loud hiss.

She gave a shaky laugh. Sort of not believing her eyes.

Yet there was no denying what she'd just seen.

The thin tendril of electricity that jumped from one hand to the other as she pulled them apart had been stunning. An unstable purplish-white, snapping like live-wire before disappearing.

"Unbelievable..." Mikoto turned to look at her palms again, just barely stopping herself in time as strands of highly charged hairs levitated towards her hands. "Okay. Bad idea."

She hesitated a split second before slapping her palms down on the ground to either side of her, profoundly relieved to feel the electric charge dissipate into the earth.

She released the breath she'd been holding.

Her chakra seemed, if possible, annoyed with her for the action. Humming angrily beneath the skin of her hands.

Mikoto rolled to a sit. Pushing chakra to her eyes to activate her Sharingan.

 _There_. It was there, pushing at her coils like a living thing.

"Oh, come on!" Mikoto forcefully pulled the chakra back to mix at her core, which usually was enough to settle it. Only to flinch at the addition of jumpy energy. "Okay. So, elemental chakra outside body – good. Moulding and neutralising affinity inside your body? Not so good-"

She stumbled a bit as she tried to find her feet.

Her legs were shaky beneath her.

Mikoto managed a couple of feet before her chest fluttered, her eyes closing as her heart thundered in her ears.

 _Bad, bad idea..._

Then the ground rushed up at her.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

"Nii-san?"

Itachi's eyes opened in a flash, blinking at the ceiling only to recognise the presence standing to one side of his bed. He turned towards the boy, watching his conflicted face.

"Nii-san?"

"What is it, Sasuke?" It was not odd for Sasuke to invite himself into his room after a nightmare. Although this would be a first, for him to seek him out _after_ sunrise. "What's wrong?"

"Nii-san. I'm hungry," the boy ended in a whine. That caused the elder brother to frown. "Tou-chan's not up yet and Kaa-chan says I'm not allowed to touch the stove by myself because I'm too little..."

The last part was mostly muttered, though Itachi caught every word of it.

Oh, Sasuke enjoyed the privileges of being the youngest child of the family. But he also despised the sanctions attached to his current age. His little brother was, as Sasuke never failed to remind anyone who dared to call him a baby, not little and already 'almost four'.

Itachi sat up, rubbing his face and quickly taking control of the situation.

True enough, Itachi could sense his father's sedate chakra humming across the hall. Sensing the rest of the house being empty, Itachi dragged himself out of bed. "Kaa-san's probably taking her morning walk."

Itachi knew his mother did her own bit of training. He'd caught her few times going about it in their back garden. But some things simply couldn't be done within such an enclosed space.

Yet, no matter what time of day, their mother rarely left the house for more than an hour or two at a time. He was aware she preferred the stillness of early morning to train, as it was the most time effective.

As they padded down the stairs, with Itachi keeping a firm hold on one of Sasuke's hands to ensure he didn't trip during one of his 'sleepier' moments, the elder Uchiha immediately frowned seeing the clock mounted on the kitchen wall. Then stopped entirely in his tracks as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Itachi-nii?"

"Go sit down, Sasuke. I'll be right back."

The boy did so, without complaint for once and didn't even bat an eyelash once Itachi slid the shoji door connecting the two rooms closed.

A knock outside their bedroom startled him awake.

Fugaku took a quick inventory of the empty space beside him before he heard:

"Tou-san?"

The door opened to reveal a somewhat frazzled looking Fugaku. Stray hairs sticking out in places.

Clearly, sleep hadn't come easy last night.

"Itachi?" Fugaku took a quick sweep of the boy's expression and immediately became alert. "What's wrong?"

Itachi simply shook his head. "You need to see it for yourself."

Fugaku frowned and didn't even answer Sasuke's enthusiastic morning greeting as they brushed past him in the living room and into the kitchen. Itachi stayed vigilant, stopping in doorway to keep his brother from entering. Itachi wasn't particularly easy to upset, but even he had a hard time remaining unaffected by the sight.

"Stay where you are, Sasuke."

The boy dropped back onto his rump, a hand pressed to his growling stomach. "But, Nii-san! I'm really hungry."

Itachi simply shook his head at his antics.

Watched as his father slowly scanned the hidden corners of the room, then approached the large puddle of red soaking into the kitchen floor. Grotesque, word like scrawls had been drawn with the same red colour. A few splatters seeping and merging with the larger puddle while some words remained separate and quite easy to decipher due to their large size.

 _Traitors!_

 _DIE_

 _Uchiha-scum_

 _Murderers!_

But the most worrisome was of course the crude, outlined shape of a monstrous fox-head. Where, staring at them from a visible eye socket, sat a sole, fully developed Sharingan eye.

There was no mistaking the caricature drawing, as the attention to detail was far too fine to be a coincidence. It was plain to see from the darkened expression on his face that his father had identified the illustrated doujutsu as had he.

If it didn't? Well, the iron-tight grip the man kept around the hilt of his kunai said a great deal about his current state of mind.

"Keep Sasuke out, Itachi. He doesn't need to see this..."

"Yes, Sir."

Fugaku crouched down to dip the tip of his kunai into the puddle. Then sniffed at the collected droplet held beneath his nose while enhancing his sense of smell with chakra.

It wasn't that odd a sight. In fact, Itachi had heard of shinobi doing worse to confirm such suspicions. Yet something still roiled in the pit of Itachi's stomach as he watched his father do it. Bubbling. Threatening to come up...

Itachi's mind worked on overdrive as he tried to push down the urge to empty his already empty stomach.

One thing was certain.

That much blood had to be fatal.

* * *

 **.oOo.**

" _Oi_! Mikoto-obasan!"

Something tapped insistent at her cheek, before she felt herself roughly turned over.

Thankfully whoever found her bothered to keep her head from lolling too hard with the motion. Mikoto tried her hardest to open her heavy-lidded eyes and was surprised when she found a curly head staring down at her.

"Ah." pink sprinkled across his cheeks as he noticed her coming to. His fingers swiftly retreating from where they'd been resting against her pale cheek. "There you go."

"Shisui-chan?"

The affectionate address only served to make him blush deeper and the gangly teen stood, standing tall over her as he nervously cleared his throat.

"What are you doing here, Mikoto-obasan? This isn't exactly the best place for a midday nap," Shisui scanned her clothing. "Even after training."

"I wasn't sleeping..." Mikoto said somewhat groggily as she pushed herself to a seat, nearly falling over in the process only to have a pair of hands steady her. Dark eyes looked up into his. "I passed out."

"Great. I was actually hoping for the former," Shisui said with a sigh, only to crouch down beside her. Mikoto gave a startled cry as she was suddenly hoisted up by her shoulders to a stand with the help of Shisui's chakra-infused legs.

"You good?" He asked, concerned.

He didn't even wince, despite the panicked hold her fingers took on his side. From the way she leaned her weight into him, he knew it wasn't done on purpose.

"Yes, I'm fine." She drooped a bit once he eased his hold, much to her own disgrace. She gave a nervous smile, "Okay, so not... _perfect_. Kami, this is so _embarrassing_..."

He wrinkled his nose.

"You smell a bit... _sharp_." Then angled his head as if trying to understand her very makeup. Looking very much like a bird trying to piece things together. "What, exactly, have you been up to?"

She hung her head, defeated. "Training."

" _Training_?" Shisui parroted with a raised brow. Dubious, despite having heard from his cousin about his mother's attempts to 'keep fit'. He doubted that was all there was to it, but he wouldn't probe the topic against her wishes.

"That's all you need to know at the moment," she said then winced. Apparently, her fall hadn't left her entirely unscathed. "Do you mind taking me home? I'm kind of wobbly and I wouldn't want to have to stop every few feet to catch my balance."

Shisui gave her an understanding look, aware of the effects extensive training could leave you with. At least she was in better condition than Itachi was after his 'train to you drop' sessions. Perhaps it was genetic, strengthened by an inherent amount of stubbornness genes?

"No problem, Mikoto-obasan."

Slowly, he helped her walk back towards the more familiar parts of the Uchiha compound.

The Uchiha were one of the few clans, besides the Nara clan, who had claim on land containing patches of Hashirama-trees, which still skimmed the village walls in places. It was one of the reasons the clan had endured thus far. Attuned to the forests, more so now than before the founding of Konoha, Uchiha tended to utilise these less publicly explored areas inside village walls to relax or do light training. More powerful jutsu being prohibited in the area to keep more extensive damage at bay. It was a lot easier to fall back on more pleasurable pursuits when surrounded by the stillness of the trees.

Besides, it wasn't that much of a burden to restrict their more famous fire-jutsu training to the lake or appropriate training grounds outside the village walls.

Walking side by side like this. Shisui noted it was hard not to notice the constant jitter of her chakra.

Uchiha Shisui wasn't the best sensor in the village, but he prided himself on knowing that he could read those familiar to him well enough to identify them even at longer distances. The feel of Itachi's chakra signature was like a second skin by now, they spent so much time together. Shisui's parents, even more so.

So far, outside his immediate family, he found Mikoto-obasan's the most intriguing.

Because it never stayed still.

Always flickering one way or another.

Much like Sasuke's, although the kid's chakra was still much smaller than his mother's reserves.

"Hm?" Mikoto broke through his thoughts and Shisui realised he'd been staring. Almost incriminatingly fast the teen turned his face away, adjusting his hold on her arm, which was slung over his shoulders for stability.

"Ne, Mikoto-obasan?"

"Yes, Shisui-chan?" She asked, face brimming with feigned innocence. She really did enjoy those flushes the teen sported whenever she called him that.

Shisui hesitated for a moment. Not sure whether it would be appropriate or not, for him to address such a thing. But seeing her open expression, he decided to chance it.

" _Well_... You know, chakra can be a bit tricky... So, you shouldn't start experimenting on your own, alright?"

She blinked, before realising. "How did you-?"

He gave a knowing smile. Then sent a pointed look at her palms. "Chakra burns."

"Oh," she said, shocked. Those hadn't been there before...

"I don't know what jutsu you've been trying out but experimenting alone in the forest is just asking for trouble. Besides, you're forgetting whom I've been training with these last few years." He grinned at the embarrassment dawning on her face. "Even Itachi knows better than that. He's usually humbler about being found out, too."

"Are you saying Itachi's been experimenting with chakra without us knowing?" She gave him a sharp look.

 _Oops_.

The teen paled.

"Ah, no. I mean..." Shisui rubbed at his chin. "He sometimes asks me to observe while he reviews and perfects his techniques. Clan jutsu, mostly. They've been pressing Itachi on the issue quite a lot, recently."

"The council?"

"The elders..." Shisui trailed off, aware that some things aren't to be repeated outside of clan meetings. Shisui knew that Mikoto-obasan, despite being wife of the clan-head, remained an outsider very much when it came to clan matters. Not actively participating in the weekly gatherings was the same as saying you wanted nothing to do with the clan and its interests. Which, by default, meant you were excluded from a lot of the politics and on goings concerning the running of the clan. Shisui figured it was just because of Fugaku and Sasuke's traumatic entry into the world, but...

"You don't have to tell me, Shisui. Not if it gets you into trouble." She watched the teen exhale, the tension she'd seen working its way into him fading at her words. "Fugaku-san usually keeps me up to date about clan matters that needs my attention."

She raised her head, surveying the still calm streets that stretched through the compound.

"I might not be directly involved in clan politics as much these days. But that doesn't necessarily mean I don't have my own opinion concerning how the elders and council chose to run things."

That, of course, caught Shisui's attention. Though Mikoto hid that she'd seen the reflexive response. The more people of the clan who thought she was ignorant, the better. But she thought it important, that both Shisui and Itachi knew there were some who would stick up for them. Even against the clan's wishes.

Her face fell a bit, thinking of the deep discontent that festered in the clan.

"There are only so many things Fugaku-san can influence without the backing of the elders. Which, I think, can be a bit problematic at times." Mikoto caught Shisui's obvious surprise at her words.

It was commonly thought that Fugaku had more weight in the clan's decision making, when quite the opposite was true. Sometimes, it was practically impossible to pass an agenda without the strong support of at least one clan elder and much of the clan council.

"Still, you shouldn't hesitate to come to me or Fugaku if you think something smells fishy or the elders put too high demands on you or Itachi. It might not sound like much right now, but Fugaku-san actually listens to me and my advice more than the elders are comfortable with."

When they finally arrived at the main family house, it was to find officers of the Uchiha Military Police Force crowding the entrance outside the building.

"Ah, Shisui-kun." One of the officers greeted, as they neared. "Just in time."

It was easily forgotten that Shisui had started his mandatory training with the police this year. Which meant that he recognised most of the faces standing like alien invaders on her perfectly cut lawn, taking statements from other Uchiha who happened to have passed through the area.

"What's going on?" The teen asked, when the two officers closest to them saw who was with him.

"Mikoto-sama! Thank kami, you're alright." The man, who wore an additional band of rank around his upper arm, seemed most relieved to see her there. Which made something inside her tighten. Because what kind of situation could have facilitated such a response?

Mikoto cocked her head at them, silently questioning the man, when one of younger clan healers rushed to her and clasped a hand on her shoulder. "What happened to you? Did they kidnap you?"

"What? _No_!" Mikoto brushed the hands off and found unexpected help in Shisui, who seemed as surprised as her at what was transpiring, brushing the healer off as a shout of her name sounded from the entranceway to her home.

"Mikoto!"

A flurry of leaves smacked into her face and she sputtered, only to have Fugaku pull her to him. She didn't manage more than a short protest before she was held at arm's length from him. Dark eyes took a surveying look for potential injuries, before narrowing at her. "What happened to you? The boys told me you'd gone out this morning. I nearly called in a search party when you didn't return."

Mikoto did her best to brush of his searing gaze, still a bit stunned by the fact that he'd actually used a shunshin to cross the distance between them. So, she opted instead to straighten out her clothing, trying for an unaffected look and failed spectacularly. Had she really walked through the compound looking like this?

"Oh, it's nothing! Just wore myself out, _running_... Nothing too straining." Shisui, who stood next to her, opened his mouth to add his own, in his opinion, more accurate version of the tale. But rapidly snapped it closed again when Mikoto forced her heel down on his toes – _Painfully_.

"I-" Shisui bit down the yelp of pain. Taking the hint. "I found her napping beneath one of the Hashirama-trees. Poor Mikoto-obasan! She really shouldn't push herself so." He rubbed the back of his neck and dared to glance sideways. Mikoto's sweet smile in his direction told of further repercussions should he decide to expand on the matter any further.

"Really? Good," Fugaku added with a sigh. He sounded far too tired this early morning. "Today has already been trying enough."

She narrowed her eyes.

Mikoto watched as policemen re-entered the house. Carrying equipment, it took her some time to recognise as forensic props she'd only seen used in crime dramas.

"What is going on, Fugaku-san?"

Fugaku sighed. Eyes following hers before returning to the two.

"There was another... internal matter this morning." That set her on edge and had her body stiffening. It was minute and hard to spot, but it was there. "It's mostly finished business by now. But they need to collect a bit more... _material_."

Shisui's face hardened.

"Wha-" Mikoto stopped. Pausing as she tried to collect her thoughts. Her face outwardly claimed an unaffected visage, aware of the many onlookers. There were civilians hovering by the end of the street a fair distance away. Far enough to not seem intrusive, but close enough that reading expressions – if not lips – was no great difficulty.

It wouldn't do for them to see her upset.

For a split second, Mikoto remembered her company. But she needn't have worried. Clearly, both Uchiha – even Shisui, young though he was – were better at keeping up masks of indifference than her.

Fugaku took hold of her hand. Discreetly. As if to comfort, but not wishing to let it be publicly known that there was any reason for him to do so.

They weren't usually very affectionate in public. He was still Clan Head, after all. But it wasn't odd for Fugaku to show small hints of their relationship in proper settings.

These past few years since had done much difference.

It had become better – _easier_... to understand Mikoto. Fugaku had learnt to understand the complicated build, the sometimes-brooding thoughts and the occasional violent outbursts. He'd come closer to understanding how she thought. Which skill that helped immensely when it came to reading her in situations such as this.

Which was why Fugaku was struggling with keeping his cool in the wake of her unease.

Something, he'd caused inadvertently.

The cool grip around his wrist jolted him back into focus as dark eyes stared into his with silent meaning. "If that's the case. Where then are my children?"

Mikoto was no fool. With the number of policemen conscripted into helping with the investigation, something bad had happened. Which drove a feeling of fear into her.

Where were her kids, if not with the sole man she trusted them with? Itachi didn't necessarily need to have been inside when it happened, but Sasuke...

"No worries. I left them at my sister's. Itachi's idea, actually." The rush of chakra and sudden vacuum of space between them had her stepping forward, just enough so that they were barely touching. Fugaku looked over his shoulder, nodding at the men who pointedly tried to look busy at his unamused gaze.

The light brush of her breath against the open triangle of his yukata assured him that things were alright. She wasn't crying. Mikoto wasn't breaking in any way. Fugaku placed his free hand on her back, holding her to him lightly. Afraid that she'd escape prematurely, if he allowed her the chance.

"The children..." She said softly. Her face remained averted, hiding from curious eyes, which left him to stare at the top of her crown instead. A bit less glorious than it usually was, what with the speckles of dirt and bits of grass stuck in it, but no less startling. The sun shining on it, turning it a deep shade of blue. "Sasuke?"

"Fine. They're perfectly fine." He rubbed small circles with his fingertip on her back. She didn't even seem to notice, yet somehow unconsciously responded to it by pressing closer. Resting her cheek against his chest. "I imagine my sister is spoiling them rotten right now, you know how much she likes Itachi. Sasuke is just a fortunate addition to an already bordering on unhealthy auntie-nephew relationship."

A chuckle and he smiled down at her, unbeknownst to her.

"You do realise Sasuke won't wind down for hours yet with all the sweets she's probably feeding him this instant." Mikoto lifted her head to look at him, eyes bit less strained and hinting of mischief.

He wouldn't exchange it for the world.

"Meh. I imagine a nice basket full of tomatoes fresh off the farm will work wonders to get him off that quite quickly." A slap to his arm had Fugaku laughing, her glaring eyes only spurring him on further. "Maa, maa."

"We'll see who has the last laugh when he's tearing down the house on a sugar-spree." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "That will be your job by the way, Shinobi-san. This Sunday's mine, remember?"

"How could I forget?" He shook his head in dismay. Aware that he'd promised to keep Sasuke occupied while Mikoto spent some much-needed time with her elder son. "It will be a long day, indeed."

He could just imagine the havoc Sasuke would deal out while trying to engage him in one of his more ludicrous games.

They disengaged, turning with a wave to the officer standing watch before walking towards his sister's house with Shisui in tow. Their steps paced evenly upon the gravel.

Fugaku released a pent-up sigh of resignation:

"Well, I always wondered what it would be like to be a pirate."

* * *

 **To be continued...**


End file.
